


Finding Potter

by TheLostLibran



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 17 years later, Analyst Draco Malfoy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Auror Astoria Greengrass, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Ron Weasley, Canon Compliant, Case Fic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Getting Together, Healer Luna Lovegood, Hugs, Infidelity, Kissing, Light Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Magical Theory, Professor Neville Longbottom, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Soul Magic, Unspeakable Hermione Granger, Versatile Luna Lovegood, ooc draco malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22653382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostLibran/pseuds/TheLostLibran
Summary: It's 17 years after the war that Draco Malfoy's carefully constructed life again gets thrown into disarray. Of course, it's because of Potter, that's pretty much a given. Only now, Potter had to go missing and as the Ministry's best Analyst, Draco Malfoy, is assigned the case to have a re-look after the Aurors and Unspeakables fail to find their Golden Boy even 2 weeks later.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 50
Kudos: 160





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is only for entertainment purposes. I do not own the characters nor do I make money from this work. Harry Potter and Co. belong to JK Rowling and WB.

It was about as impossible as it was insane. Draco steepled his fingers and rested his head on them, closing his eyes in thought, frustration and a tiny bit of sadistic glee. Who would have ever thought he would have Granger and Weasley visiting him, being civil if not cordial to him. Who would have ever thought they would request his help, no, his services. Who would have ever thought he’d end up becoming the Ministry’s best Magical Analyst, on demand 24/7, indispensable, powerful and strong. Who would have ever thought, life after the war, 17 years after the war, would be so rewarding. Who would have ever thought he would end up here today? Who would have thought Potter would end up where he was today? More importantly, who would have ever thought, Potter would go missing and he, Draco Malfoy, not his best friends, Granger and the Weasel, would have to find him.

Draco leaned forward to circle the date on his planner. He then marked a star next to the date to denote the day he started The Potter Case, to denote the day he was approached by the Saviour’s friends, to denote the day he felt he achieved the best recognition he ever got until now. No, it wasn’t the case of Exploding Cauldrons that announced his first success loud and clear to the wizarding world or the case of the Missing Chaser that promoted him to the head of the Department of Magical Analysis or the case of Illegal Dittany Export that made him internationally famous, that were the measures of his success. It was today, the 20th of June, a fortnight after his 34th birthday, that he truly achieved what he had set out to achieve. He would start from tomorrow after he received the case files and evidence. Content, Draco gathered his belongings and left for the Floos.

Draco looked up at the sound of a sniffle. His brows rose high into his hair and he abruptly stood up from his chair, crossing the room quickly and leading Scorpius to an armchair. He then waited patiently, giving Scorpius the time to compose himself. It wasn’t everyday that his son stood before him, nervous and fidgeting. It also wasn’t everyday that his son was home. After Astoria died in an Auror raid 4 years ago, he had taken to sending Scorpius to the Manor when his work required him to stay long hours in the Ministry. Of course he could trust Doris to look after his son, but he didn’t want Scorpius’ childhood filled with an empty house and a rugged looking house elf, even if the said elf doted on him. Scorpius usually slept in the Manor on such occasions and Draco picked him up the next day before returning home. That day too, Lucius had come to Floo Scorpius over to the Manor and Draco planned to go collect him after a shower. But he had hardly taken off his cloak and robes when Scorpius entered.

‘When did you come back, Scorp?’ he finally asked when he saw that his son was, for some strange reason, reluctant to start.

‘In the afternoon,’ he replied, his voice shaking.

Draco shifted in his chair and placed a gentle hand on his son’s back, rubbing slowly. He heard another soft sniffle and immediately pulled his 11 year old into his lap. Scorp burrowed his face into Draco’s chest and began sobbing loudly. Draco squeezed him tighter and asked, ‘What’s wrong Scorp?’

‘Toby died, Papa,’ he replied, clutching Draco’s lapels in his small fists. Draco almost didn’t remember who Toby was. Almost. Toby was the crup Scorp had taken a liking to on his first visit to the Lovegood’s Animal Reserve and Luna, who observed his son’s interaction with the crup and his own eagerness to buy it for him, warned him of this very situation. Toby was already old, even according to the magical norms and wouldn’t live much longer than 4 years at the most. Draco had bought it for Scorpius after Astoria’s death and though he told himself that it was for Scorpius’ protection and company, he couldn't deny that he too had formed an attachment to the golden tailed dog. Draco hugged his son tighter and rubbed along his arms, completely clueless as to what to tell a child who had just lost his pet.

‘Would you like to dig a grave for him in our garden, Scorp?’ he asked finally, after a while, by which time Scorp had stopped crying and was rubbing his red eyes. Scorp looked up at him, questioning and confused.

‘What is a grave, Papa?’ he asked innocently. Draco once again wondered if it had been a mistake to completely shelter his son from the harshest reality of life- death. His mother agreed it was, that Scorp would eventually ask questions and that inevitably Draco would have to tell him. His father agreed too, though his reasoning had been along the lines of proper traditions to be observed and properly educating one’s kids. In the end, Draco had told Scorp that Astoria was dead and that meant he could no longer see her or talk to her ever. Scorp had cried for a week and a half and only started recovering after Toby came along.

‘It is dead people’s home, it is where they rest,’ Draco said, tightening his arms around his son.

Scorp turned in his arms and asked, ‘Does Mom have a home too then?’

Draco was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t visited Astoria’s grave once since her funeral. It still stung. He had never really been over it, nor had he forgiven her for being stupid. Really, that girl should have been a Gryfiindor for all her impulsiveness and bravery. Since he never visited her, he hadn’t taken his son there either. It was time he did that. Because she wasn’t just his wife, she was also Scorp’s mother and he didn’t have the right to keep them apart. Fate had been cruel enough. 

‘Yes, son. Let’s go see her on Sunday, shall we?’ Scorp nodded. Draco ruffled his hair affectionately and kissed his forehead. ‘And now, we’ll go create a nice home for Toby as well,’ he said, snapping his fingers for Doris, who appeared with a pop.

Visiting Astoria had been a much easier affair than he expected. It was more somber than he expected too. Scorpius ran his fingers over her name and placed a bouquet of sunflowers on the tombstone. He then stood next to Draco, who was doleful and silent. Draco encouraged his son to talk to her and Scorp sat cross-legged on the grass and told her about Toby for the greater part of an hour. Draco sighed and looked away, taking in the signs of monsoon, leaves shining bright green with rain drops falling from their tips, toadstools shooting up around the trees, splashes of mud scattered along the damp grass, the cool misty wind wafting across, the heavenly petrichor filling his nostrils and the sky still filled with grey clouds. He should have done this long ago but at that time visiting her every month meant a sense of finality dawning on him that even her funeral and the empty house had not given him. He refused to engage in thoughts of her for the sheer fear of what he would be tempted to do to those Aurors who had failed to protect her. He instead threw himself into work and between that and caring for Scorpius, he gradually settled into a brooding apathy.

They had then gone to Diagon where Scorpius managed to convince Draco to buy him a toy broom. ‘Papa, I’m 11! I promise I won't be careless.’ After another hour at Florean Fortescues, 2 ice creams and a pointed look at the Weaslette and her 3 kids who were sitting in a corner booth, Draco apparated home. Scorp climbed into his bed in the middle of the night and Draco just adjusted his covers around the little boy who looked to have tear tracks down his cheeks. He pulled his son closer, planted a tender kiss to his temple and said, ‘Goodnight Scorp.’  
‘Goodnight, Papa,’ he heard a soft voice 10 minutes later.

Monday morning took him to the Auror office where he was briefed about the case and he went home two hours later with four file jackets under his arm and a plastic bag containing the evidence and collectibles. One quick glance at them showed him that Unspeakable Granger had been thorough, but that was to be expected of her. He stored them for a detailed inspection later on and apparated to Potter’s house to start his investigations. 

Weaslette looked haggard and tired, all sunken eyes, worry lines and dark circles. By the sound of it, her kids were creating quite a ruckus. She let him into the kitchen wordlessly, prepared a cup of tea and set it before him, taking the opposite seat and eyeing him warily. Draco took a sip of his Earl Grey and was about to start speaking when she suddenly sighed and rubbed her hands on her face. 

‘I’m glad you are on this,’ she said, surprising him.

Draco didn’t know how to respond. He cleared his throat and said, ‘Are you now?’ But he didn’t give her a chance to snap back at him. ‘Mrs. Potter, it is indeed in unfortunate circumstances that we meet but I hope to have brought about some change in the situation the next time I visit,’ he said stiffly in his professional tone.

There was no reply for several minutes. Ginny Weasley-Potter just stared at him expressionlessly. But from his own experience he knew the mask face meant that a great deal was going on inside. He waited until she spoke again.

‘Look Malfoy, I know there’s no love lost between any of us involved in this case but I’d like to get along with you until we find him. There’s no need to antagonise each other and complicate this more, nor do we need to be guided by our teenage emotions. We’ve all grown since then, you more than anyone else from the looks of it.’

Draco blinked. That was surprisingly mature coming from her but then that could be because he never liked her. He didn’t know her either. But then she didn’t know him too and he also could be mature about this. He nodded, setting his cup down and stood up. Ginny Weasley-Potter then escorted him around the house as he collected Potter’s magical signature from various rooms. He already knew it was going to be weak since this wasn’t where Potter was last seen but he needed reference samples to match with those he’d be collecting in the course of his investigation. He kept the bedroom as the last place he’d go to. He was somehow inexplicably flushed and nervous about opening the door to the room he stood in front of. This was Potter’s bedroom for God’s sake! Normally it wasn’t a big deal. He had been to countless bedrooms and done countless investigations. It was nothing really. Except this was Potter. Harry bloody Potter. His archnemesis. His opponent. His…

Shaking his head, Draco entered the room and cast a collecting spell. He glanced around the room casually as the spell started gathering Potter’s aura from his belongings. The room had a large bed with white sheets, a wooden dresser, a bedside table and a walk in closet. There was a beep and Draco waved his wand, gathering all traces of Potter into a glass stoppered vial. He tucked it into his bag and turned to leave. Ginny was standing at the door with a far away look in her eyes. On seeing Draco packed and ready, she moved to lead him out. Draco didn’t bother with questioning. Those preliminaries had all been thoroughly conducted already and those papers were in the files waiting in his study at home. Being sufficiently experienced and an expert in the field put him in a position where he not only could work from his home but also choose to be involved in the cases he wanted to deal with. Of late, he was regarded more as a Consultant Magical Analyst for the Ministry than a head of one of its toughest departments but Draco was okay with it. 

Ginny was silent as they descended the stairs. Draco, on the other hand, was busy glancing at the walls, at the portrait covered in maroon curtains, in particular. ‘Great Aunt Walburga,’ he said, fingering the fine silk of the curtain. Ginny paused, looked back upon hearing Draco’s voice and nodded. ‘Harry was never able to take it down,’ she said. Draco nodded absently, thinking of the stories his mother had told him about this particular Black. When he turned to continue downstairs, Ginny had a contemplative look on her face. She tilted her face to the side as if she was analysing some aspect of Draco. He was about to ask what it was about but Ginny had already reached the end of the stairs and there was a boy around Scorpius’ age running towards her, tears pouring down his red tinted cheeks. He immediately latched onto Ginny’s leg and started rubbing his nose on her shins. Ginny gathered him into her arms and lifted him onto her hip. ‘What’s wrong, honey?’ she asked in a sing-song voice.

The boy calmed down enough to tell her, ‘James.’ Ginny shook her head and sighed, as if it was nothing new. ‘He said Dad wasn’t going to come back,’ he sniffled.

Draco looked at the one kid of Potter who inherited his messy dark locks and his poor vision. The little boy was already wearing a set of round glasses that were covering three quarters of his face and narrating what his older brother had scared him with while Ginny gently shushed him. Something about the picture struck Draco in a corner of his heart that he suspected was raw and sore and he looked away.

‘Will he help us?’ the boy asked. Draco turned to face him, his expression carefully neutral, not betraying his surprise at being addressed. ‘Will you help Dad? Will you bring him home?’

‘Yes, Albus, he’s the best in London. If anyone can find your Dad, it’s him,’ Ginny reassured.

Ah! Draco remembered now. Albus Severus Potter, named after his Godfather. He was always intrigued about Potter’s choice of name for his second kid. As far as he knew, Snape had been on Voldemort’s side and never in Potter’s good thoughts. He wondered what had changed. For Potter. For Snape.

‘I’ll certainly put in my best efforts, Albus,’ Draco said gently. Albus looked sceptical. So Draco amended his words, ‘I’ll put in all my efforts. I know how you feel, I have a son who misses me everytime I go out without him.’

Albus still looked unsure but after a moment he wiped his tears, nodded once, twice and then rushed out of Ginny’s arms yelling, ‘James! Dad will come back!’

When he turned to Ginny he found she was again looking at him strangely. ‘What?’ he asked, irritation seeping into his voice.

‘You really changed Malfoy. You are suddenly someone I don’t know.’

Draco snorted at that. ‘You never knew me.’

‘Yes, but it is as if I’m meeting you for the first time.’

‘Please, Mrs. Potter. I do know and observe civil behaviour,’ Draco huffed.

‘Maybe, but you’ve never gone out of your way to be kind. Maybe becoming a parent does that to a person,’ Ginny said in a thoughtful tone.

Draco was tongue tied at that. He didn’t know what to say but he wouldn’t allow himself to be bested by Weaslette, the Weasel’s sister, the Saviour’s wife and the best Chaser for the national team if rumours were to be believed.

‘It’s been 17 years, Weaslette. I think that is what time does to a person. Good bye and good night,’ he retorted and then apparated before she could say anything. He landed in his front parlour and was in the process of shucking his cloak off and dumping his bag when footsteps were heard in the corridor and tiny feet stumbled across the room towards him. He crouched to collect a happy, smiley Scorpius into his arms and then twirled him around the room.

‘Papa! You should see what Doris helped me do!’ he crooned. Draco laughed as he let himself be led away by his son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever story. Please excuse any and all inconsistencies in story telling. Constructive criticism is encouraged. Please feel free to give your input. And if you like it, leave kudos!


	2. Chapter 2

Draco entered his room holding a steaming mug of freshly brewed coffee, inhaling the aroma that soothed his overworked brain. He collapsed into his armchair, rocking gently and thinking hard. That was all he seemed to be doing of late and he long ago gave up trying not to think what Potter was upto this time. It had been a week since he met Ginny and two since he took up the case. Potter was missing for about a month now. He had reached nowhere so far. It all seemed to be going in circles. Every path led to a dead end. He sighed and placed his cup on the table next to him. The most confusing thing about it all, the thing that had been plaguing his mind since he first heard about it was why Potter did what he did. Draco’s brain refused to accept that Potter, the golden boy, the saviour, had problems that he couldn’t tell anyone. If one kept aside all the fans and followers Potter gained after the war and after he became Auror Extrordinnaire, winning the Best Auror award thrice, there were the loyalties he had gained long before he did anything as amazing as defeating the darkest wizard since Grindlewald. It was simply impossible that he suffered from anything he couldn’t share with his closest friends, since Granger and Weasley both swore they had no clue about what might have been going on in Potter’s mind.

Draco straight away rejected the notion that Potter was dead. The stupid, four eyed git was a survivor before he was anything else. He survived the killing curse twice. And if Eric Handscombe was to be believed, Potter survived through a tragic childhood with the Muggles he grew up. A few years after the war ended the Daily Prophet ran an article about the abusive nature of his relatives and how he came out unscathed through all that and could even be said to have developed a certain superiority complex after his glorious life in the wizarding world as the boy who lived started. _Glorious! Unscathed! My foot!_ Potter’s issues became pronounced after the war, _because that’s when the stress of defeating a madman, saving the world and hoping to come out alive at the end of it, finally let go of the suppressive hold it kept over his other emotions and thoughts,_ Quibbler recorded him quoting in an exclusive he agreed to give to help people’s trauma of the war. Apparently, Potter was now fine and fit mentally too as his healer from Mungo’s certified. Draco found that hard to believe on two accounts- first that this behaviour of Potter hardly qualified as sane and second that his healer had been Luna Lovegood, who in all honesty was slightly mad herself.

Draco rubbed his hands over his face and exhaled loudly. No matter how many times he tried to not revert to pre-war thoughts, beliefs and behaviour, he unconsciously found himself doing and thinking exactly that. _You have improved a lot, you are much better than your father who lived with his bigoted prejudices well into his adulthood and made choices that put his family in peril._ Of course, as a first step he had even enrolled Scorp into Muggle Education classes at the primary school he attended. _There’s still hope and there are a lot more years ahead of you to change yourself,_ Astoria had consoled him.

There was something here that was hiding in plain sight. Not the reason. No. Only Potter could explain his reasons, he could at the most guess and hope that he’s correct, which he won’t know until Potter was found. Draco decided a reconsideration of all facts was necessary. Why was every clue he followed turning up empty? Why was Potter still missing after 4 weeks of investigation and enquiry? Why were the Unspeakables unable to trace him? And honestly if they couldn’t, what were Draco’s chances at finding him? Hence, a relook with a fresh set of eyes at the events that happened. Draco opened the folder containing the notes of Unspeakables and Aurors.

June 1st- Harry Potter went to Gringotts. There was no withdrawal or deposit but he had been to his vault and his children’s vaults.

June 2nd- Mr. Potter took his wife Ginevra on a date to The Weird Sisters concert and they went for dinner at a posh restaurant in London.  
_He had even left the Ministry half day for that, something he hasn’t done in ages, according to the records._ This note seemed to have been added as an afterthought. Draco suspected Granger.

June 3rd- Mr. Potter took his kids shopping in Diagon Alley. James and Albus Potter bought some of their school supplies.

June 4th- It was a normal working day at the Ministry. Mr. Potter was unusually late in the morning but promptly left at 5pm with his Auror partner Jerome Parker. He had visited his friends Ron Weasley and Hermoine Granger later that night.

June 5th- Mr. Potter visited Hogwarts and met with Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, his friend and Herbology Professor Neville Longbottom and had tea with Care of Magical Creatures Professor, Rubeus Hagrid.

June 6th- Mr. Potter was called for lunch by Andromeda Tonks and had gone there with his 3 kids. He then had dinner at The Burrow, the Weasley house. He returned alone to 12 Grimmauld Place, his kids staying with their cousins at The Burrow.

June 7th, 6am- Mr. Potter woke up and went for his early morning run, returning at 7am. He then had tea and went about doing his usual chores. 

June 7th, 10pm- His solicitor, Dean Thomas, visited him and they spent 2 hours locked up in his study. Mr. Thomas had stayed for lunch and left at 1pm.

June 7th, 1.21pm- Mr. Potter received a fire call.  
_Kreacher, his house elf, heard the voices but didn’t see anyone, nor was he called for refreshments. The Department of Floos at the Ministry recorded a call on the Floo named Black’s which confirmed Kreacher’s account. The call was recorded of being about an hour long and was found to have been placed from a public floo in Diagon Alley’s Flourish and Blotts._

June 7th, 2.40pm- He went out and came back 40 minutes later with groceries. Kreacher served him tea and put away his bags in the closet. He had tea at 3pm.

June 7th, 3.30 pm- He watched a movie called Titanic. Draco snorted at this particular entry. Obviously what movie Potter watched was important.

June 7th, 5pm- He left in the middle to visit Flourish and Blotts.  
_He collected the special edition books he placed an order for two weeks ago, the clerk at the counter recalled._

June 7th, 7pm- His kids returned home for dinner and everyone retired to bed at 9pm.  
That was the last anyone saw of Potter.

Kreacher and his kids had gone about their day on June 8th as it was not unusual for Potter to wake up early and leave on urgent assignments. Kreacher confirmed Potter hadn’t left a note and the Head Auror confirmed Potter had taken a day off and hadn’t come to the Ministry. Ginevra Weasley lodged a complaint later that day at 8pm when the children and Kreacher informed her after Potter failed to return home for the day.

Draco then skimmed through the steps the Unspeakables and Aurors took. There was the interrogation of the Gringotts goblin who showed Potter to his vault and copies of Potter’s last transactions in the bank which proved that he had neither withdrawn nor deposited anything in his vault. There were statements from McGonagall, Hagrid and Longbottom which said it was a casual visit Potter paid them once in a while. In a fine script below this was written a note: Memories confirm. Robards’ and Parker’s accounts were also taken down- Potter had no active cases, he didn’t provide a reason for his leave on the 8th of June. Parker was further questioned about how Potter had appeared in the week leading up to his mysterious disappearance and Draco snorted again. Of course, Aurors were that predictable but he had expected something better from the Unspeakbles, especially considering that Hermoine Granger was one of them. Then he sobered up, not all Aurors were hopeless- Weasley, Potter and by extension, Parker for example. He had always admired the way Potter’s brain worked.

Parker said Potter had been quite distracted that week but also pointed out that it could have been because two of his kids were leaving for Hogwarts in a few months. Everyone knew of Potter’s love for his children, not that anyone expected any less, and it seemed understandable. Yet Draco got a feeling that it was not all. That Granger simply confirmed it was even more suspicious because if Potter confided in anyone, it was his two best friends. And if something happened to Potter he couldn’t see them sitting back like they were now. Mrs.Tonks and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley said the same- he had been distracted and sad but that was not unusual before Hogwarts started for the year. So that meant Granger and Weasley either knew something or were trying to hide something so that it didn’t get public attention.

Then came the difficult part of what had happened on the 7th of June- the meeting with his solicitor, the firecall and the books. According to Dean Thomas, Potter was just asking his advice on acquisition of a property in Surrey and they were just discussing whether it would be profitable or not. Another note below read: Memory confirms. There was a copy of the parchment from the directory where fire calls were recorded and Blaise Zabini, who bought Flourish and Blotts a few years ago from its previous owner, gave a written statement that he had no idea about the call as his floo was at the back of his shop and he was at the front. SInce all these were business establishments and there was always a possibility of theft, floos were not only equipped with alarms and trigger spells, the owners also made sure only those they trusted knew the password to access the floo. This was the only reassuring thing in this case, since whoever it was Potter had spoken to, either worked in the shop or was someone whom Blaise trusted. Blaise had supplied a list of people who knew the password and everyone checked out clean on the 10-member list. Then there were the books Potter had personally bought, just volumes of Advanced Spells and Charms and Advanced Potion making, nothing a NEWT student wouldn’t need. Granger, Weasley, Ginevra and Mrs.Tonks all expressed the same belief that Potter could have bought them for Teddy Lupin and intended them to be his surprise parting gift to him that year before he left for Hogwarts. Teddy on the other hand didn’t seem to think so since Potter had already bought them for him. Draco studied the picture of the books glued to the page and blinked once, twice and then frowned. These were old editions. Why didn’t anyone think it weird that Potter placed an order for books that were ancient when new editions were released every two years containing additional chapters and the latest research findings? Draco filed it away for later inspection.

He stretched and cast a Tempus. It was just after 1pm and Scorp would be coming home any minute now. Since it was the last day of his school, Draco decided to take him out to Fortescue’s in Diagon to buy him his favourite ice cream after lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. That meant Draco had to get going in about 5 minutes. He called for Doris and informed her he would be going to fetch Scorpius. He then shrugged into his robes and Apparated to Scorp’s school where his son was waiting for him and came bounding into his arms the moment he saw him. Draco rubbed his son’s back affectionately while Scorp giggled and launched into what all he had done that day. His son’s smile had the potential to light up his entire day and he wondered how it was possible that a simple curve of red lips could place him on the top of the world.

Lunch was a noisy affair with the patrons of Leaky talking over each other, waiters collecting orders, the clinking of dishes, the chiming of the bell above the door each time someone entered or exited and Scorpius still narrating his day, gesturing wildly about. Scorpius’ excitement doubled when Draco took him to Fortescues. They placed their order and sat at a booth in the corner. Scorpius was looking outside the shop at the passersby and Draco was in his own thoughts when the bell at the door tinkled. Draco had barely looked at who came in when there was a small boy running across the tables towards him, his unkempt black hair waving about.

‘Mr.Malfoy! Have you found him yet?’ he asked breathlessly.

Draco looked pained. He didn’t know how to tell the boy no, not after seeing the hope glimmering in those green eyes. Fortunately help arrived in the form of Teddy Lupin, his estranged cousin, who ruffled Albus’ hair and said kindly, ‘It’ll take longer, Al. Teddy Lupin,’ he introduced himself, extending his hand to Draco.

Draco smiled and shook his hand, ‘I know, Teddy. I also know it’s very late but I hope we can be good friends from now on.’ This was something Draco had intended to do for a long time but never found the courage to. 

Teddy looked surprised but immediately warmed up, taking a seat next to Draco and motioning to Albus to sit down next to Scorpius. ‘Ok, Uncle Draco,’ the teenager smiled genially, changing his hair to blond. Draco was stunned but before he could say anything, they heard a loud gasp and turned to look at Scorpius who was gaping at Teddy. Teddy chuckled in response and Albus rolled his eyes.

‘You don’t behave like you are 17, Teddy,’ Albus said.

‘Are we cousins? You just called my Papa uncle,’ Scorpius asked.

‘Yes, Scorp, Teddy is Nan’s sister’s grandson,’ Draco explained.

‘Scorpius Malfoy,’ he said extending his hand. ‘Teddy Lupin,’ he said taking it, ‘and Albus Potter.’

Scorp turned to shake hands with Albus and Draco felt a sudden pang somewhere in the bottom of his heart on seeing a 11-year old with emerald green eyes and black hair shaking hands with a 11-year old with grey eyes and blond hair. He gulped some water to dislodge the tight knot in his throat. Their ice creams arrived then and the moment was over. Albus and Scorpius started talking about Hogwarts and quidditch and favourite ice cream flavours. Draco and Teddy spoke about Potter and how far Draco had come and what his conclusions were. Draco didn’t mind sharing them with Teddy. If he could count on anyone’s help fully, it seemed to be him and Draco was well aware that Teddy worshipped Potter as a God, respected him like a father and loved him more than anyone else. Even more than his rumoured fiancee Victoire Weasley. Teddy smiled and blushed when Draco asked about her and the latter dropped the subject giving him a knowing look. Draco also gathered that Teddy had brought Albus out as he had been having a fit at home and Ginevra was too absorbed with Lily Potter to calm Albus down.

After buying uniforms at Madam Malkins and surviving a wave of memories that washed over him, Draco and Scorpius apparated to the Manor and Teddy and Albus apparated to Grimmauld. But not before Teddy placed a reassuring arm around Darco’s shoulder when he almost sagged against his seat as he saw Scorp and Albus get fitted for school robes. And not before, Albus rushed up to Scorpius, enveloping him in a strong hug and calling out, ‘See you on September 1st, Scorp!’ Draco could see that his son was in excellent spirits having thoroughly enjoyed his time with Albus. Scorpius yawned as they appeared on the porch of their house and Draco picked him up, guiding his small head against his shoulder. He was about to leave after tucking his son into bed when a sleepy voice interrupted him, ‘Papa, can I go to Al’s place for a playday?’

Draco looked momentarily speechless but then cleared his throat, ‘Sure, Scorp. Let me arrange it with his mother first.’

Scorpius nodded and Draco turned to leave when he heard a sniffle. ‘What’s wrong, Scorp?’ he asked gently, coming to kneel next to his son’s bed and brushing the blond locks from his forehead.

‘Al said his father was missing, Papa. He was very upset. He said you were searching for him. Is that true?’

Draco nodded. ‘Find him soon Papa,’ Scorp sniffled again, ‘Poor Al is scared his father might be dead. But I told him you would find his father because you are the best finder.’

Draco felt his eyes tearing up. As far as Scorp was concerned, Draco worked as a finder. He often thought he ought to spend more time with his son. He was even more terrified that Scorp resented him for it and downright worried that he would gradually hate him. This stroke of understanding and maturity was unexpected. Hence the almost tears. He climbed into the bed and hugged his son close. ‘I will,’ he promised. ‘And in the meanwhile, be a good friend to him ok?’

‘Ok,’ Scorp mumbled into his chest, relaxing immediately as Draco held him tight. Draco stayed awake for a long time, mentally going through all he knew of the case. An hour later, Draco realised what had been nigging at his brain and decided his next stop would be at Kingsley Shacklebolt’s office. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt.


	3. Chapter 3

‘I refuse to believe that the Unspeakables have been that uncharacteristically dunderheaded in this case,’ Draco said leaning back in his chair and sipping his tea.

Kingsley steepled his fingers and rested his chin on them. ‘Based on the theory you just provided I should say I am rather deeply surprised myself. I have been personally overseeing the case but I now see that I was not being completely informed.’

‘I think you should call in Unspeakable Granger and Auror Weasley and interrogate them yourself.’

Kingsley nodded, sending two memos shaped like a Lynx flying out of his office. ‘What about the results of the tests you conducted?’

‘I’ve started the process to extract and solidify Potter’s magical signature that I collected in his house. So far I can positively say that the last place Potter had been in was his bedroom but it will be more conclusive after we analyse the extract. I’ve also started a potion to separate the components of his signature. The brewing should be finished by tomorrow and we’ll have to wait another day to get the results. Analysing the magical core aspect of his signature has been put off until we have further evidence. I’ve set up trigger spells at all the likely places Potter could turn up in addition to the surveillance personnel the Unspeakables have already dispatched. There is just the question of Potter’s scent. It’s as if it’s absent. Not present even in his bedroom. The morion stone was unreactive. It’s as if it has vanished completely. But that is impossible unless Potter is..,’ Draco trailed off, his throat constricting. He sipped his tea again, allowing the warm beverage to soothe the soreness of his throat. He looked up to see Kingsley giving him a small smile. Draco frowned questioningly.

‘Nothing,’ Kingsley shook his head, ‘You are the only one so far who doesn’t think Potter has been abducted or disappeared of his own will.’

Draco blinked at that. ‘Disappeared deliberately? Abduction is an imbecilic inference since there was never a ransom call. But disappearing deliberately? Why would Potter do that?’

‘Some believe he didn’t fully recover from his condition,’ Kingsley shuffled awkwardly in his seat. The subtext was not lost on Draco.

‘Because his healer was Luna Lovegood.’

Kingsley sighed and nodded.

‘That is absurd! She is a qualified healer and of the Gold category at that!’ Draco didn’t realise that his voice was rising.

‘Calm down, Malfoy. I believe her but she also talks about Wrackspurts and Snorckacks. That raises questions. I’ve heard rumours that she was imbibing the craziness of her patients. Maybe people wouldn’t have doubted her if Potter’s behaviour was normal too.’

‘What do you mean?’ Draco asked, leaning forward.

Kingsley removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. ‘Potter was reported to have occasional bursts of irrational anger accompanied by days where he simply refused to get out of his house and if he did, he could not be prevailed upon by anyone to do any work he didn’t want to. Then Potter would come back a few days later as if the past week hadn't happened.’

Draco stared at Kingsley, his eyes wide and mouth open.

‘Then there’s the thing with..well, there’s what you suspected,’ Kingsley said not quite meeting his eyes.

‘Has anyone considered the possibility that Potter may have been possessed, confounded or under someone’s Imperius?’ Draco asked finally when he found his voice. He then got up from his seat and paced around, wringing his hands in frustration.‘We could have been wrong this entire time, we could have been looking in the wrong places, at the wrong clues, or misinterpreting the clues we do have. We could have been ignoring something major right under our noses. Why was this not in any of the reports? As far as I’m aware only the most trustworthy were entrusted this case. So it’s not like any of them would have gone to the press!’ Draco was getting agitated. When he turned to look at Kingsley, he found black eyes staring in surprise at him. Draco then realised that the other man never saw him as anything other than calm and collected. He flushed and returned to his seat, silently waiting for Granger and Weasley to arrive.

There was a knock on the door a few minutes later and Potter’s two best friends arrived, raising their eyebrows on seeing Draco. Weasley took the chair next to him and Granger conjured one for herself, greeting the Minister as they sat.

‘Malfoy here has some questions regarding Harry. He’s the Magical Analyst assigned to the case,’ Kinglsey informed.

‘So Ginny was right. You did take up the case,’ Weasley said, turning to Draco. Granger placed a warning arm on her husband’s forearm which he ignored. He didn’t blink from the assessing look he was throwing at Draco.

‘Yes, and I’d like to know why I haven’t been informed that your sister and Potter had split.’ Draco jumped straight to the point.

Weasley frowned, his freckled eyes creasing at the corners. ‘How is that relevant? We’ve not said anything because it isn’t our story to tell. It happened just before he..’ Weasley’s voice shook. Draco found his eyes softening without his intention. 

‘It is relevant because a person’s magical signature, his scent and aura change after he’s wedded to accommodate his partner’s. Only if they mesh properly do they become compatible to produce magical children. If they don’t, they could be childless or have non magical children or squibs, in worst case scenarios,’ Draco explained and Granger nodded.

‘The magical cores of the two individuals then identify each other,’ she took up, ‘which is why when a pair splits there will be reformative changes in their cores that may influence them on many levels. Sometimes, if the death of a partner is sudden it may even cause such a shock to the living one that he may be temporarily incapacitated to perform any kind of magic. A split also causes alterations in the magical signature and scent of a person. So in this case,’ Granger looked slightly abashed as she continued, ‘Harry’s have changed and..’

‘We’ve been looking at the wrong clues since we didn’t identify them correctly in the first place,’ Weasley said, getting up and pacing.

‘Ronald,’ Granger said quietly. Draco idly wondered if that was how he looked to Kingsley ten minutes ago. If yes, he decided he couldn’t fault the man for gaping at him.

‘No, Hermoine, you mean to tell me now, after weeks, that we may have been ignoring other important leads. That we have been wrong right from the start. We had a better chance of finding him back then but we still let the trail run cold. WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME ALL THIS BEFORE?’

Draco looked up surprised at Weasley’s tone. He didn’t think he ever heard Weasley use that tone on his wife before even when they were kids. It was usually reserved for all the Slytherins and anyone who insulted Potter. Draco felt an unexpected warmth in his chest for Weasley, for caring for Potter, for defending him, for always being by his side. He then immediately scowled at himself for letting his emotions get the better of him.

‘What are you hiding ‘Moine?’ he asked, a dangerous edge to his voice. Draco was once again surprised to see Granger cower a little. He had always thought her unflappable.

Granger didn’t reply, just kept staring at the ground. After a tense few seconds Weasley suddenly collapsed into his chair. ‘You know why they split,’ he said in a flat voice. It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t an accusation. It was a statement. It simply hung in the air like it was suspended there.

Granger nodded, breathed deeply and then looked up straight into her husband’s eyes, answering the unasked question lingering there. ‘As you said before, Ronald, it’s not my story to tell. Besides, do you think knowing what I did, I’d ignore what Malfoy just now pointed out? Harry’s my best friend!’

Weasley slunked even further if it was possible, his shoulders drooping. ‘Ginny told you.’ Another flat statement. He still seemed stuck on the fact that his wife knew about his little sister and his best friend but he, for some reason, didn’t. Granger continued looking at him silently. 

‘What was it you were saying about Harry’s scent, Malfoy?’ Kingsley interjected smoothly.

‘I’ve used the morion stone in every corner of Potter’s house and it remained unchanged. Not even his bedroom, the place where his magical signature was the most intense, yielded any different results. But it’s weird because every person’s magical signature comprises his magical power as a wizard that is an estimate of the strength of that wizard’s core, his magical aura that is a measure of the extent and intensity of his power and his magical scent that is the most characteristic of a wizard since it is exclusively based on the magic he performs on a daily basis i.e., it is indirectly dependent on the magic he is exposed to and his inherent emotions, his mental make up in other words. The scent component is what gives a magical signature it’s traceability. Aura is intangible and is experienced only while casting spells. Magical power on the other hand is more often estimated when a wizard is present in person. Scent however, due to its innate radioactive quality, can be evaluated wherever a magical signature can be found with the help of the morion stone. A non reactive morion means absence of Potter in his bedroom which clashes with the concentration of his signature there.’

‘What is a morion stone?’ Weasley asked.

‘It is a crystal of chemical origin augmented with magic during its preparation that changes colour on exposure to radiation and hence used to estimate the magical scent and aura of a person in a particular place. It’s readings are highly accurate and are allowed to be presented as evidence in Wizengamot as the strongest proof of location of a wizard,’ Granger said. _Wrong move!_

‘So you knew that too!’ That was most definitely an accusation if Draco ever heard one. ‘I had a right to some of this information, if not as his best friend then at least as an Auror on his case.’ He sounded betrayed and hurt.

‘We were supposed to keep it a secret and had you known, the whole Auror department would have known too. If Harry had been kidnapped, we couldn’t risk a leak of info to his kidnapper.’ Granger tried to explain. She didn’t seem to be using any part of that infamous brain of hers. Then maybe that was just her Gryffindor side.

‘Oh yes, because I cannot keep a secret, because secrecy has served us so well so far!’ Weasley was getting agitated.

Draco surprised himself then by standing up and saying, ‘Would you like to see how far I’ve come, Weasley?’

Weasley seemed to be still in shock because he accepted and five minutes later, they were standing in front of his floo, having just exited it at Draco’s study. A chime sounded and Draco had three seconds to take a breath before he was assaulted by a head full of blond hair. ‘You’ve been gone long, Papa,’ Scorp said, disentangling his hands from his neck and peering carefully at Weasley.

‘Yes, well, this is Al’s uncle, Scorp, Mr. Weasley.’

That seemed to have shook him out of his trance and after a brief moment of coming back into reality, Weasley extended his hand to his son, ‘Call me Ron.’

‘Scorpius Malfoy,’ he said, shaking it, and then added, ‘Are you helping Papa find Al’s father?’

If Weasley was surprised that his son and Potter’s son knew each other and that his son cared about Potter’s son, which was apparent in the way he spoke of Al, he didn’t show it. Instead, he nodded and said, ‘Yes, he’s my best mate, you know. Like you and Al seem to be.’ He winked and Scorpius blushed a little, hiding his face in Draco’s neck. Draco felt a heavy breath leaving him and realised he was unknowingly apprehensive about how people took his son’s friendship with Potter’s son. But if Ron Weasley had no issues, he didn’t care about what other people thought. Draco studiously ignored the voice at the back of his head that said he wanted Weasley’s approval, for Weasley to be on his side. He turned to look at Weasley with eyebrows raised, efficiently conveying his surprise at the polite conversation taking place.

‘You are helping us find Harry and I’ve seen you become the best at the Ministry with my own eyes. We all grew up, Malfoy. There’s no need to carry on childhood hostility and teach it to our kids too. We are all more peaceful like this, don’t you think?’

Draco wondered when Weasley got so subtle but then he supposed it was Granger’s influence. He was no doubt referencing Lucius Malfoy who fed his beliefs to him, whom Draco was trying hard not to simulate in the upbringing of his son. Draco simply nodded and said, ‘Yes, true, but this doesn’t mean we have suddenly become friends or something now. I still don’t like freckled faces with red hair and subpar clothing running about my house.’

There was no bite to his words and Weasley didn’t look like he took offence. He laughed aloud and said, ‘A thank you has fewer words, Malfoy!’

Draco turned away to suppress a smile just as Scorpius clambered out of his arms and ran away.

‘Somehow I don’t believe you convinced yourself so easily,’ Draco said.

‘No,’ Weasley grinned, ‘Harry had a large role to play in that. He always had an eye out for you. It almost was like sixth year all over again and I was skeptical but that was when you busted the Dittany smugglers and well, I had to accept you had changed after I read your interview.’

Draco moved to lead him to his basement potions lab, motioning for Weasley to follow. His heart was beating fast for some reason and it was in times like these, when adrenaline shot through him, that his Slytherin side came out. He said, ‘I’m sure Potter read it out to you when you refused to even look at it.’

Weasley abruptly stopped and shook his head. ‘Sometimes, it’s like you both share a brain.’

Draco looked back at him with a smirk and led him further. Weasley made a far better companion than he ever would have expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morion is another name for smoky quartz. It is chemically silicon dioxide and changes colour based on the radiation it's exposed to.


	4. Chapter 4

It took Draco three hours to show Weasley around, the chief of which they spent in the potions lab, Weasley asking questions and Draco carefully explaining everything. After Weasley exhausted his lab tour, Draco took him to his study and showed him his notes of what he thought, not the miserable ones the Aurors and Unspeakables managed to acquire. Weasley poured over them for all of fifteen minutes humming satisfactorily and pointing out possible leads. ‘These are the most extensive notes regarding this case so far. I think I’ve been right in asking Kingsley to shift it over to you. Mind if I duplicate these? It might not be my case anymore, but I might be of help. I want to be of help,’ Weasley said in a firm, low tone.

Draco was flabbergasted. Weasley was behind his recruitment? He had always assumed he was assigned to the case because nobody could succeed and the Golden Boy of the wizarding world couldn’t be missing for an extended length of time. _Because people would notice. Ask. And half known information is from where rumours arise._ Experience proved that rumours with reference to Harry Potter were abysmal, horrifying and difficult to refute and the Ministry couldn’t spare time or men to see to those alone. Which brought Draco to a question he had been thinking of late. ‘What did you tell the press? Blaise told me hardly a day goes by without some small thing about Potter, and now, his children. There is usually a picture of him in action, duelling or arresting or apparating even. So how has this all been out of the news for so long?’ Draco asked, taking a warm sip of his tea and moving his knight. Weasley’s entire face had lit up on seeing the chess board beneath the coffee table in his study and Darco felt obliged to invite him to a game.

‘You deduced that Harry and Ginny split based on the glitch in his aura. So you tell me, what we would have told them,’ Weasley said, challenge clear in his tone. ‘Bishop to g5,’ he added.

Draco shrugged. He really had no clue what it could have been. He instead said, ‘That too, there’s not a word of it in the papers or else Pansy would have come running to me about it.’ Pansy also would have urged him to get to know Potter, get close to him and finally tell him about his childhood crush. Draco sent that thought to the back of his head and into a box he never opened. ‘How long has it been? It looks recent enough.’

‘A couple weeks before Harry went missing. He was devastated.’

Draco wanted to desperately know what had caused trouble in paradise but wisely kept his mouth shut. All his curiosities had to wait until a later date- why Potter disappeared, why he split with his wife, his childhood sweetheart, why his heart beat fast at the thought that Potter was single, why he felt guilty about Astoria. From Weasley’s words it did seem as if Ginevra broke his heart, but it could be that Potter cheated on her and then felt unbearably guilty. But then again it’s because he knew the noble Potter that he could safely assume that had not been the case, the man was a saint. That’s what he had always said, right? _Saint Potter._

‘It appears that Potter knew of the effects of the split on his aura. It's why he tried to repair the cut and he had been quite successful too. I almost didn’t notice it myself. It was only because of Astoria’s death where I experienced first hand how my magic felt, that I was able to recognise it. I also think it’s because Potter’s powerful that he managed to stitch it back enough, with no prior experience, to avoid detection for so long. The Ministry’s measures to check everyone for Imperiuses and Dark artifacts are frankly ancient. We have better scanning spells now. They needn’t stop us at entry every day and scan our magical signature and wand.’ Draco said, answering Weasley’s earlier question in his lab about how he realised the truth about Potter and Ginevra. ‘Queen to d3.’

Weasley nodded. ‘He fooled them quite effectively.’ He took a deep breath and said in a deeper tone, ‘Hermoine blackmailed Skeeter into shutting her mouth and keeps sending her daily clips of what should be printed. To shift the attention away from Harry and to keep prying people off, those tidbits are usually about his kids or us or our kids with a fabricated sentence of how Harry reacted to what had happened. Quibbler keeps the saner people away by editing and printing old photographs of Harry supplied by Dennis Creevy. Luna and Neville come up with irrationally long articles in relation to those pictures and all this keeps the public sufficiently engaged.’

Draco had to marvel at the ingenuity of it all. He could easily picture whose idea this was and silently applauded him. He was beginning to see why Weasley was indispensable to the Aurors. He was a walking encyclopedia of strategy. ‘Creevy? You trust him?’ 

‘Yes, well it’s more like we told him Harry needed his help as he was going on an important Ministry assignment and was unlikely to be seen for a while. We told him he had to block any news of Harry that came out and instead put in his own words and pictures so as to not alert the enemies that Harry was undercover. All it really took in the end was a grave tone and a heavily lined face to convince him and he almost shifted his bed into the Quibbler’s office. He is a Potter fanatic just like his brother. He looked honoured to be entrusted with this. Queen to c7.’

Draco chuckled. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d say you were a Slytherin.’ Weasley snorted at that. ‘Rook takes f6. Though, I’m sure you realise that when Potter is found and the story is nothing like you made Creevy believe, all this could heavily backfire.’

‘That was put aside as an acceptable collateral risk. I am already planning to make him break the real story. That way even if he gets offended for being used, he’d get something out of this. Also, since he’s a Gryffindor, I’m sure he’ll eventually forgive. He’ll also realise that preventing this news from spilling to the public was in fact quite necessary. I think that will neutralise everything.’ When Weasley didn’t make a move, Draco looked up from his chessboard to find Weasley staring at him with a glint in his eyes.

‘What?’

‘I like how you said _when Harry is found._ It sounds hopeful, which is more than we expected before you came along.’ 

For a moment, Draco was suddenly horrified that Weasley would cry and he might end up having to console him for the second time that day. So he hastily added, ‘You should also give him exclusive material about Potter’s divorce and I think he’d call it even.’

Weasley scowled. ‘I definitely don’t like how you are sure that divorce is where this is going to end. Harry and Ginny will reconcile. I think that is why he took her to that concert. Rook takes f6.’

Draco, for some reason, didn’t like the sound of that. But he couldn’t let Weasley see that so he instead huffed and moved his king. The game continued for an hour before they agreed on a draw and Weasley flooed back to his house.

‘Oh by the way,’ Draco said, just as Weasley took a pinch of floo powder, ‘the memories of the witnesses’ testimonies were not provided along with the other evidence. You’ll have to give me clearance to access them.’

‘I’ll make sure you get that first thing tomorrow morning. ‘Night Malfoy!’ he called, stepping into the green flames.

‘Goodnight, Weasley,’ Draco said, staring at his fireplace for a long moment.

Draco had a quiet dinner with Scorp before he read a story to him, tucked him in and placed a goodnight kiss on his forehead. Alone in his bed in his soft cotton pajamas and amidst warm blankets, his thoughts began to drift. He could clearly see his thoughts diverting to Potter anytime his brain was not otherwise occupied. The last time Potter consumed his thoughts was in fourth year when he got himself picked at that awful tournament and was forced to do dangerous stunts like fight with dragons. Draco had been besides himself with worry then. He supposed it was happening now because he was thinking of nothing but Potter these days. His job was causing a flare up of all his repressed feelings. He found himself reaching for the Box-that-should-not-be-opened in his brain and shook his head. What would Astoria say? He had never told her that he was a bi. In his defence, he got insanely enraged and utterly depressed when he saw the news of Potter’s engagement to Weasley’s sister and in his state of confusion he had agreed to his mother’s suggestion to marry Astoria. He had sobered up later however and married her after proper wooing. He required for Potter to be shoved into that Box and he did. He was even happy with Astoria and affectionate and caring to her needs, if he could not really fall in love with her. Astoria was not dumb. He knew Astoria figured it out by the end of their first year and yet had accepted him. Draco felt as if he had made a lifelong friend in her. Until Astoria’s death four years ago, they were both sufficiently happy in their marriage. 

Now, all these years later, Astoria’s death, Potter’s disappearance, his separation from his wife, their sons becoming fast friends were threatening to unlock the Box- the Box that contained what ifs and could have beens, filled with tears and want and longing and memories. Draco once again felt as though he was betraying Astoria. Though he knew Astoria knew, the fact of the matter was that he neither told her explicitly nor did she question him about it. Draco regretted not telling her many things. He wanted to tell her eventually but that was when he thought she would be by his side long into their old age. Now, there was only pure agony and remorse in his heart. He could see, in retrospect, that he kept his feelings suppressed deep inside him by going back to complete his seventh year, acquiring Mastery in Potioneering, studying Magical Analysis and concentrating on his steady rise in ranks in his department in the Ministry. Along came Astoria and Scorpius, in whose presence he really did manage to forget. He suddenly dreaded sending Scorp to Hogwarts. There would only be Doris for company. At least when Toby was around, he was scampering throughout the house barking and howling, tearing papers and soiling carpets and being an adorable nuisance in general, eliminating the silence that always seemed to fill the house. Tears threatened to spill as he realised how lonely he had been even in his relationship with his wife, a loneliness that only seemed to grow as the years went on. 

Draco sat up in bed running his hands over his face. He went to his study where he had all of Potter’s belongings in the cartons he had brought them in. He searched for the red shirt that Potter wore the day before he disappeared and brought it to his nose. Inhaling deeply, he fingered the soft cloth. He took it back to his bed, pulled a pillow close, placed the shirt on it and hugged it to his chest, curling his legs around it and waiting for sleep to come. It didn’t. Not for a long time. Sometime later he realised the pillow and the shirt had got wet and he sniffled, blinking the tears from his eyes. He rubbed them with his fist and sighed. A result of an image conjured in the depths of his mind perhaps, he could almost imagine a spectral Potter beside him, his thumb gently caressing his cheek for a while before his hand moved upwards to brush his hair away from his forehead. It was a spotless night sky with the glimmering stars and the moon shining bright. In the dull glow of the moon Draco could see that Potter’s green pupils were dilated and gleaming, a soft smile on his face completing his ethereal look. Draco knew his imagination stretched when Harry gently kissed his brow, putting him to sleep, just like he had put Scorp to sleep a couple hours ago. But he didn’t know what to call it when Harry tugged his head close to his chest and ran his fingers through Draco’s hair and started massaging his scalp. Because even though he knew it was all just in his mind, even though he knew there were more chances that this was just a fantasy and would never come true, there was a warmth beside him on the bed, into which he snuggled happily.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose I should warn that Harry enters the story late and maybe fully present for only 2/3 chapters. Since the entire story is going to be from Draco's POV, a chapter detailing what Harry did and why may not be present. But all loose ends will be tied up and Harry will definitely have his say. He's a main character after all! I hope I don't disappoint.

Draco woke up many hours later, hair tousled, clothes wrinkled and drool leaking out, and looked next to him. There was no one. No Potter. He stared blankly at the spot where his mind said someone had been last night. He prodded his blankets and tossed aside his pillow. The spot still seemed warm. Or maybe that was just his imagination. He picked up the red shirt he cried into and brought it close to himself, trying to refrain from sniffing it. He felt unwanted tears pricking at his eyes. Again. God! What was happening to him? Malfoys don’t cry. Not even in private. 

_You can, and your father need not hear about it._

A half laugh and half sob tore out of his throat at that thought that sounded suspiciously like something Potter would have said. If he was teasing. If he was in a good mood. Draco knew all about his sass and snark. Of course he does. He didn’t observe Harry Potter for six years to let this bit of his character slip his notice. The unnatural sound he made turned into a full blown sob at the thought of Potter. He pressed his hands into his eyes, rubbing furiously as he began dry heaving. The more he wiped away, the more they seemed to spill, from all the deep recesses of his heart. He didn’t know when he leaned against the headboard, pulled his knees to himself and wrapped his hands around them and laid his head down. But he realised that was how Scorp found him when after what seemed like an hour, Draco felt small arms wrap around his neck. Draco tugged his son into his lap and they both rested against each other, drawing comfort from each other, until the sun rose up and bathed the room in bright golden sunlight.

Draco was halfway through his first cup of coffee when he heard a chime ring throughout the house. He jumped from his seat and apparated to his basement. He entered the door labelled _Mon Tresor._

_You named your lab?_ He could hear Potter’s laugh accompany his reprimand.

‘Shut up!’ Draco grumbled. And then felt like smacking himself on the head. Of course Potter didn’t say that. His mind was just playing tricks on him.

Draco looked around his perfectly crafted lab. He had designed it himself around nine years ago when he decided to have a Potions lab at home to brew his potions himself. Scorp also would benefit from it and he could start his Potions training early. That had happened with Draco too, one of the few things he is grateful to his father for. And after Astoria’s death when he got the necessary permissions to work from his house, having a potions lab at hand helped.

He walked around a long table filled with racks of test tubes, vials, glass jars, pipettes and burettes, bypassing his stack of wrought iron, steel, copper, gold and silver cauldrons to the other side of the room where there was a stone basin resembling a pensieve with a bluish silver liquid swirling in it, grey vapours escaping into a pear shaped vessel suspended in air using a modified Levitation charm. To the right of the basin was a large cylindrical jar with a duct extending into the stone basin. Draco could see that there was a grey mist in the jar settling along its walls. He smiled. The liquefaction process of solidifying Potter’s magical signature was complete. Draco could start his analysis in a couple of hours and he would be able to present Kingsley with a preliminary report by evening. Things were looking up. It was about time!

Draco slipped on a pair of gloves and pulled out a glass rod from one of the drawers of the long bench. He cast a sticking charm on the rod and then moved it around in the stone basin, gathering the silvery part of the liquid. It was the amalgam of the spells Potter cast. Sequential breakdown of it was going to give the other details of each individual spell. He dropped the rod into a test tube and cancelled the charm, filling the tube with the silver liquid. After completely separating the spell mixture and placing it in five test tubes, Draco collected the blue residue into a beaker. The residue was going to be stored for testing with required potions to examine Potter’s magical aura. Then he was going to have to verify the results of wand core scanning the Unspeakables had provided with the other minute details of his own spell mixture analysis and add any further points where necessary. By that time the residue would have cooled enough to expose it to the various tests specifically designed to trace out those aspects of Potter’s magical signature that had been erased to mask his tracks, which was not uncommon among dark wizards and Aurors, but this was where the Unspeakables were limited, ironically by their own extensive knowledge and training. Their curriculum required them to be at least eighty percent aware of everything but that meant sacrificing particulars. It was however justified with the reasoning that they could research and learn on a need to know basis and since the resources were never lacking, that system just continued. Nevertheless, nothing could be compromised and eventually several sub-committees were established, some of which then developed into their own individual departments. Magical Analysts often came into picture whenever the Unspeakables were stuck and that had been the cause of the ever increasing rivalry between the two departments. Just like Draco came into picture after the Unspeakables had all but given up.

It was 4pm when Draco flooed into Kingsley’s office. To his surprise and a tiny bit of relief, he saw that Granger and Weasley were sitting in the chairs opposite to the Minister’s desk. It would save repetition time for them all. To his dismay and a tiny bit of horror, he saw that Head Unspeakable Timothy Handscombe, father of Daily Prophet reporter Eric, was lounging on a chaise at the back of the room. Draco immediately looked at Granger who jutted her chin at Kingsley, who in turn shrugged and said, ‘I have some questions that I’d like to ask him. Now, proceed with your findings.’

Draco sincerely wished some of those questions included why the Unspeakables withheld information at the beginning and launched into an explanation of all his discoveries.

‘We will begin with Potter’s wand scan reports submitted by the Unspeakables. On June 7th, the last day Potter was seen, the spells he cast had been Incendio, Reducio, Descendo, Cistem Aperio, Colloportus and the Patronus charm. All these spells except one can be cast wandless. So why did Potter use his wand? Secondly, it’s clear Potter contacted someone. Who was it? I had hoped to find the answers to these questions in the case files but,’ Draco paused, turning around to look at Granger, Weasley and Handscombe, ‘surprisingly, you have failed miserably.’

‘Patronuses, unlike floo calls or owls can’t be traced. That is elementary school knowledge, Malfoy! Maybe you don’t know it because you spent all that time with your daddy revising Pure Blood genealogy instead of doing some proper pre-Hogwarts training,’ Handscombe fumed. He was a pure blood himself but greatly sympathised with half bloods and muggle borns and had fought viciously for the Light side. His hatred for the other pure bloods in general and Malfoys in particular started since the time of his wife’s death at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. He therefore took every chance he could to snap at Draco or underplay his work. It was fate’s twisted sense of humour that they ended being the heads of rival departments.

Draco decided not to dignify that poor attempt at a dig with a response and continued as if Handscombe had not spoken. ‘The important thing to be noticed here is that it’s precisely because Patronuses are the safest form of communication that Potter chose to employ one. Which could mean that one, Potter wanted that business of his to be a secret, two, Potter was forced to keep it a secret, or three, Potter had to keep it a secret but was trying to give us a clue.’

‘It’s pretty useless if we don’t know who the recipient of the Patronus was. It doesn’t help much,’ Handscombe said, displaying his dreadful thinking capacity once more. Honestly, who had given the man his job? Granger seemed to be thinking something similar because she rolled her eyes and said, ‘The call to Flourish and Blotts! He talked to someone on that line for nearly an hour. He could have sent a Patronus to them.’

‘My thoughts exactly,’ Draco nodded.

‘So what did he talk about and what message did he send?’ Granger began rambling off, ticking the points on her finger, ‘Maybe they had arranged to meet somewhere and maybe Harry went to meet him/her in the middle of the night. If yes, then why didn’t he return? Could he have been kidnapped?’ There was an unmistakable note of horror in her voice as she put a hand on her mouth. Weasley rubbed his wife’s back and quietened her.

‘Kidnapping doesn’t make sense. There have been no ransom calls. He is not dead either. You know that. Calm down, ‘Moine.’

‘If Potter is neither abducted nor dead, then there is nothing much we can do except wait for him to return,’ Handscombe huffed. Nobody paid him attention.

‘There is one other, if slightly irrational possibility,’ Kingsley said. All heads turned to look at him.

‘Harry, uncharacteristically, ran away from home due to some reason we don’t as yet know and placed his new residence under Fidelius.’

‘Highly irrational,’ Weasley scoffed and Draco agreed.

‘It’s still a possibility nonetheless, and looks the safest of all options so far,’ Granger said and that was when Draco realised that the steely mind of arguably the best Unspeakable was gone and replaced with concern for a friend who was almost her brother.

‘He wouldn’t leave his kids. He wouldn’t leave Teddy. Or us,’ Weasley reminded her. ‘Besides, he would need a Secret Keeper then..’ he trailed off.

Draco began to see some merit to Kingsley’s thought. ‘Considering his floo call and Patronus, we can safely assume he has an accomplice. It is entirely possible that he or she could have been made Secret Keeper. By the way, what did you mean when you said you were sure Potter was not dead?’

‘Sirius named Harry his heir and Kreacher, in a fit of gratitude, magicked the family tapestry to display Harry’s name underneath Sirius’s as the next descendant of the Black family. Ginny confirmed Harry’s name was still there,’ Weasley explained.

‘We still came back to where we started even after all this discussion. I told you, Potter is impossible to find,’ Handscombe said smugly.

Granger snapped out of her thoughts and sent her boss one of the dirtiest looks Draco had ever seen on her face, and that included that time in their third year when she punched him. He never wanted to be at the receiving end of it again but had no problem watching Handscombe’s face crumble at the look in her eyes. Weasley sat up straighter and glared at the Head Unspeakable. Kingsley looked exasperated. Draco sighed and continued.

‘All this sounds well and good but the last recorded spell on his wand as per the Unspeakable scan report is Colloportus. My analytics gave a different answer. Colloportus was the second last spell cast.’

‘So what was the last one?’ Kingsley asked, leaning forward.

‘This is where it gets interesting. The last spell from Potter’s wand isn’t in our dictionary.’

Granger frowned. ‘So it should have been either an old spell or a new, untested one.’

Draco nodded. ‘My guess is that it is an old one. Potter may be reckless but not to the extent that he would use an untested spell. Especially in the vicinity of his children.’ Weasley nodded and scratched his chin looking contemplative. There was a calculative gleam in his eyes as if he had stumbled upon something important and was trying to put the pieces together.

‘But an old spell would have triggered some kind of alert in the Spell Monitoring sub division of DMLE,’ Handscombe argued.

‘An alarm would sound only if it was a banned spell,’ Weasley said before Draco could. ‘If it was one of the spells that were simply lost in time or out of regular usage, it would still record with Spell Monitoring but it would record as safe.’

‘Unfortunately we have no way of knowing what that spell was since it’s been nearly a month and Spell Monitoring logs would have been refreshed to allow space for the next month’s checks,’ Granger lamented.

Weasley shook his head at her and grinned at Draco. ‘We still have hope. Malfoy, those pictures.’

Draco nodded and produced them from a plastic folder labelled Evidence. He laid them out on the table and turned them towards the Minister.

‘Here,’ he pointed and Granger leaned forward to get a better look. ‘These are the books that Potter bought from Flourish and Blotts on June 7th, the last day he was seen. They may look like ordinary NEWT level books but these are old editions. So old, in fact that, Potter had to place an order for them two weeks in advance. He also paid in full on the day of order itself.’

‘They should have cost him a lot,’ Handscombe’s voice said from above his head and Draco wondered why he had suddenly stopped antagonising his every word. But then, as usual, he had made the wrong observation.

‘No,’ Weasley said, ‘the acquisition and delivery of these books takes time because they are hard to locate. Not because they cost a lot. Most bookshop owners often obtain them from Wizarding Libraries who in turn get them from old wizarding families who wish to donate to the future generation. The Librarians try to find a replacement before selling them which takes time.’

Draco nodded and consulted his notes again. ‘According to the Auror reports, those books have been checked for all kinds of curses, jinxes and hexes by Blaise Zabini before he handed them over to Potter. There is also a copy of certification from my department stating that the books were good to go.’ He pulled out the paper from another folder and gave it to Kingsley. ‘Those books were examined by Aurors as well, when they conducted their initial examination but were not part of the evidence submitted. I’m assuming it’s because everyone opined that they probably had been for Teddy Lupin.’

Granger and Weasley nodded and Handscombe, once again, hummed.

‘Teddy Lupin was himself quoted as saying that probably might not have been the case,’ Draco continued. ‘So neither Potter nor Teddy took those books but they vanished from his room in which they were there when the Aurors investigated, according to this photo,’ he shuffled a few of the pictures in his hand and pointed at one.

‘And the room hadn’t been opened as the Aurors had given explicit instructions to keep it closed and secured,’ Weasley said catching on. ‘Then where are the books right now? If they vanished, how did it happen, who cast that spell and why?’


	6. Chapter 6

Kingsley pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, leaning back in his chair. ‘Indeed, why?’

Silence filled the room, everyone thinking of a plausible explanation and no one coming up with anything that would fit into their theory. When it looked like even Handscombe had nothing to say, Draco took up again, ‘There’s another thing that the great Unspeakables and Aurors overlooked.’

Granger, Weasley and Handscombe all protested and Kingsley banged his hand on the table interrupting whatever they were about to say. ‘Enough! We are here for a reason. Let’s not get distracted from that. You can have your silly little ego fights outside my office.’ He shook his head in irritation and motioned for Draco to continue.

‘In the memories, Weasley helped me access,’ he began in a subdued tone, ‘I saw that Potter, after leaving Hagrid’s hut, walked into the Forbidden Forest. The memory ends with Hagrid shutting his door, but that small amount of time is enough to see Potter going in the direction of the Forest. There’s also the fact that he left Hogwarts a good half an hour after he bid goodbye to Hagrid.’

‘We don’t have proof of that,’ Handscombe interjected, earning himself a glare from Kingsley. 

‘We do actually,’ Weasley said. ‘He was late to collect Al from his school so I took him over to my house when I went for Rose. And I didn’t mention this because Harry was at his house when I fire-called him, drying his hair, so I assumed that was the reason he was late. Al flooed over immediately after and we just forgot about it.’

Handscombe made as if to object again but was cut off by Kingsley who said, ‘It was a mistake any of us could have made, Timothy. Now, sit down!’

Handscombe grunted and settled into a chair beside Kingsley.

‘Ron and Draco here want to ask you why you ordered Hermoine to keep mum about Harry’s split and the subsequent changes in his aura,’ Kingsley said, looking at the head Unspeakable, his gaze piercing, scrutinising and disapproving.

‘We didn’t want the press to get a wind of it,’ he answered lamely. Kingsley’s gaze didn’t waver. Weasley narrowed his eyes and Draco raised his eyebrows, none of them buying a word of what he said.

‘Your son is a reporter for that pathetic excuse of a newspaper and you were worried about a press leak,’ Granger said shooting her boss a pitiful look. ‘Give them the real reason, or I will.’

‘No! Don’t..’ but it looked like Granger was already past all his bullshit because she turned to the Minister and announced, ‘We don’t have sufficient resources or cases to study the Aural aspect of a person’s magical signature. Our research and knowledge are therefore limited. Timothy was worried that if we released reports of glitches in Harry’s aura, the Analysts would be behind us to study it themselves. So he forced us all to keep mum on it and research it ourselves.’

To say that Weasley and Kingsley were furious would be an understatement. Draco himself felt horrified. Harry Potter was being used as a specimen when he could be in danger for all that they knew. ‘That is why you’ve been trying to get us to stop searching for him,’ Draco accused, his tone suddenly sharp. ‘You wanted more time for your research! Potter is not one of your test subjects. He is a man whose family and friends are worried about him, who are waiting for him to return home and you turn him into an experimental animal. You moron! Do you even realise what you have done?’ he bellowed, indignant and spiteful.

Handscombe looked shocked. Kingsley, Granger and Weasley were gaping at him with their mouths open. Draco feared he might have given away his emotions but there was nothing he could do about it. So he instead turned to the Minister and said, ‘I trust you to wring out the other truths he kept hidden. Sir,’ he added as an afterthought and promptly gathered his stuff and walked over to the floo.

‘Oh. I didn’t know you were waiting,’ Draco said as soon as he saw Teddy Lupin, Albus Potter and another boy, who was most definitely Son 1 going by his nose, sitting on the sofa in his parlour. Scorp was sitting in a chair next to them and there were three cups of tea and a plate of cookies in front of them.

‘Papa!’ Scorp jumped on hearing his voice. ‘Al and Teddy have some news.’ There was an unmistakable note of excitement in his son’s tone.

‘It is about Dad,’ Al said, mirroring Scorp’s eagerness.

‘Hello, Albus, Teddy, and you must be James,’ Draco said turning to Potter’s eldest child and extending his hand, which the other boy shook dutifully.

‘So what is it that you have to tell me?’ Draco asked seating himself in a nearby armchair and snapping his fingers for Doris. He was surprised when nobody spoke. Al nudged James and nodded at him. James looked up at Draco and then looked away again. He seemed to be struggling with whatever he wanted to say which made Draco start to wonder what the matter was in the first place.

‘It’s okay, Jamie. You can tell him,’ Teddy said laying a comforting arm around his shoulder.

James took a deep breath and blurted, ‘I saw Dad.’

Draco dropped his biscuit into his tea. ‘What?’

‘Yes, and I don’t know if it’s just my imagination or anything. All I know is that I was in my room studying and I suddenly started remembering all those times when Dad used to teach me and sit with me while I did my homework,’ he choked on a sob which prompted Teddy to rub his arms, gently shushing him. Al reached for the glass of water on the coffee table and handed it to his brother. Scorp pushed the cookies towards James. 

‘I miss Dad,’ James said breaking into tears, ‘I miss how we used to play quidditch every Sunday afternoon and how I used to write him letters from Hogwarts thrice a week. I miss Dad’s jokes and I miss Dad and Mom and all three of us sitting down for dinner at night.’

Nobody said a word, giving James time to compose himself. ‘And then,’ James continued in a clearer tone, ‘one moment I was just there sitting and crying at my desk and the next moment, Dad was beside me. He looked like he was crying too. I thought I had cried myself to sleep and was dreaming but then, Mr. Malfoy, he rubbed my back and my hair like he always did. I felt his touch. It was Dad and it wasn’t him. Because he was transparent, like a ghost, and I know people only become ghosts after they die so..’ he trailed off.

Draco was stunned. James was describing Potter the same way he experienced Potter’s presence in his bed a couple days ago. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if this was good or bad news. He didn’t know if he could reveal that it happened with him too. He just sat there, hot tea turning cold in his hands, the wheels in his brain turning and trying to find some meaning to it all, four sets of eyes watching him attentively. Draco cleared his throat and said, ‘I’m sorry I don’t know what this means. But I don’t think it’s something we can ignore. This doesn’t necessarily mean he’s gone. Maybe he was just trying to communicate with you, trying to tell you to be brave and be strong. You have my word that I’ll look into it first thing tomorrow morning.’

When no one spoke even after a good ten minutes, Draco got up and went to kneel next to James. He placed a gentle hand on his knee and said, ‘I know for a fact that he’s alive, James. Don’t worry. We have many people other than me working on finding him. We all are worried about him too. We miss him too. Now you all need to go home and rest and if anything happens again don’t hesitate to floo me immediately about it.’

‘Thank you, Uncle Draco,’ Teddy said getting up.

‘Thank you, Mr. Malfoy,’ Al and James chorused.

They were almost at the floo when Draco spoke again, ‘Where is Ginevra? Why didn’t she come with you?’

Teddy turned to him but didn’t say anything. ‘She’s grieving in the only way she knows,’ he said after a long moment. Draco nodded, understanding.

‘Teddy, do you know what happened to those books Potter bought from Flourish and Blotts?’

‘No, they were in his room, right?’

‘Yes, but they seemed to be missing of late.’

‘Oh, maybe Ginny or Kreacher know about it. Do you want me to ask them?’

‘Yes, please,’ Draco said.

‘Uncle Draco? Thanks for being there for all of us,’ Teddy said with a shimmer in his eyes. Draco wondered how much Teddy had been holding back all these days. He smiled and patted his cousin’s shoulder.

The clock chimed two and Draco moved his eyes from the ceiling towards the open window of his room. ‘What are you upto, Potter?’ he sighed, resting his head on his hands.

‘Where are you? Everyone here is losing their mind over this mystery you left us with. Why did you do what you did? If you are listening to me right now Potter, think about your kids. Think about Teddy. Think about your Weasleys. Think about your friends and colleagues. Think about me.’ His eyes grew misty again and he blinked them repeatedly. ‘Fuck you, Potter. Malfoys don’t cry! And definitely not over teenage crushes.’

Draco didn’t know when he fell asleep. All he knew was that there was a warmth at his back, a heaviness around his waist and a hot breath on his neck. Draco didn’t dare open his eyes. He liked this dream far too much to ruin it by checking to see if it was real.

Draco was woken up from his sleep by a steady banging on his door. He frowned and got up to see who it was. Doris would have apparated in and Scorp would have whined and gone in search of their elf. He cast a Tempus and saw that it was just after 4. Yawning, he opened the door to look into a pair of hazel eyes and sandy brown hair. He knew what Teddy would say even before he said it.

‘I saw him too, just like Jamie!’ And then he collapsed at Draco’s feet.


	7. Chapter 7

There was a stifling silence in the room that threatened to become unbearable if no one made any move to disturb it in the next few seconds. Draco knew he couldn’t fault them but he was growing impatient. At long last Kingsley sighed and rubbed his eyes yawning. Granger and Weasley shifted in their seats, pulling their robes closer. Draco silently levitated a log into his fireplace to keep the embers going. The only place in the room to still be soundless was the couch, where Ginny Weasley was sitting. She didn’t look like she batted an eyelid since she came into the study when Draco made emergency floo calls to everyone involved after he guided Teddy into one of his guest rooms.  
‘It seems plausible in spite of all the improbabilities involved,’ Granger finally said. ‘Harry is clever enough to have all the technicalities worked out, seeing that this was a carefully planned thing. Although, this makes me wonder how long he had been thinking of doing this.’

‘How did he even get that idea in the first place?’ Weasley sighed, leaning forward and resting his face on his steepled fingers. ‘How did he know where to look? How did he even know about this theory you just said? How did he do all this? Who is his accomplice? Too many questions and not enough explanation!’

Draco could hear Weasley restrain himself from asking the question that mattered the most. _And why._ He knew what an effort it was since he also was beyond curious when it came to Potter’s motives. There were times when he just wanted to pull his hair out for not being able to answer any of the questions Potter threw at him by going missing. He nevertheless had a hunch. He didn’t know how correct his guess was, but it had been a starting point in understanding the case and figuring out Potter’s whereabouts.

‘So, what do we do now?’ Kingsley asked. ‘How do we test whether Draco is right or not?’

‘If we consider all the instances when Harry appeared before us, it looks like he came at those times when we we more or less missed him, his presence. Maybe he is affected by a spell that makes him visible when an emotional element is in play. It’s just a raw thought. But we can start looking for spells that exclusively work on a person’s emotions. Or potions that grant invisibility or similar states. Books containing these sorts of works can be most definitely found in old wizarding family libraries. It’s a starting point, if anything,’ Granger said.

‘Do you not find it suspicious that the books Harry bought are pretty ordinary school texts but still had to be ordered two weeks in advance?’ Weasley said. Before Draco could protest that they were older editions that were not usually available, he added, ‘I know what you said Malfoy but look at it this way. What if what we need to look for are not those books but those who supplied them? They might be old volumes but still can be easily traced. Besides, they were used once upon a time for academic purposes. Even if they had some spells or potions like the ones we presume Harry used, they couldn’t have made such a strong impact as this. Those books couldn’t possibly have contained anything we ourselves didn’t learn at Hogwarts. So what if they were used for information, but not necessarily for the information inside them?’

Draco perked up immediately. This was Weasley donning his Auror robes and using his strategic brain. Something he secretly hated to love. ‘You mean to say,’ he began quietly, ‘that Potter was exchanging messages with his accomplice through the books. And that they vanished before we could search them for clues.’ Weasley nodded, folding his arms across his chest.

Kingsley seemed to be mulling it over as he took a sip of his tea. ‘Did Harry have these kinds of books with him before?’ He asked Ginny who took a minute to come out of her reverie and then shook her head.

‘This can’t be the first time Harry and his accomplice talked regarding this plot. It is a well thought out plan, one that took into account all possible outcomes and reactions,’ Kingsley pointed out. ‘So how did previous communications take place unless..,’ he trailed off.

‘Yes,’ Granger nodded tiredly, ‘The Protean charm. And he chose Flourish and Blotts probably because he has direct access to the floo and it wouldn’t look suspicious that he contacted the shop. Anywhere else, with the records in the Department of Floos, we’d be able to track him down within a day at the most. He really, really put his all into disappearing!’ She banged a fist on the arm of her chair, startling everyone in the room.

‘This means that his accomplice is also someone with direct access to the Blott’s floo,’ Kingsley said, ‘but then didn’t they all check out ok?’ Nobody said anything to that. It was another known dead end and hence a rhetorical question. 

‘I’ll contact Flourish and Blotts,’ Weasley said standing up.

‘There’s one more thing,’ Draco said calmly, sipping his tea. ‘Why and who did Potter talk to for so long on the fire call to Flourish and Blotts the day he was last seen?’

‘Well,’ Weasley said, ‘I think-’

‘No, Ronald, we are not going to use veritaserum on Blaise or any of those who work in his shop. The more people we bring in for questioning, there will be that many more of them who will know about the case. Unless we obliviate them, of course and the last thing we need is a public outrage to add to the mix we have. Moreover, there’s always the chance that they wouldn’t consent to the use of the truth potion and we will be helpless then.’

‘I don’t think you have any right to make decisions on this case anymore,’ Weasley scowled, his tone icy, ‘not after you deliberately withheld valuable info from all of us.’ Kingsley and Draco looked shocked.

‘In any case,’ Weasley continued as if he hadn’t just yelled at his wife, ‘what I meant to say was that, Harry could have just engaged the call for an hour, he needn’t necessarily have talked for an hour. We know he did call someone as we saw in Kreacher’s memories. We are just assuming he talked for an hour because the records say the call’s duration was an hour and the records only note the duration and place of call not what is being spoken.’ Granger still looked at him with brown eyes widened in disbelief.

‘One last thing,’ Draco said again when it looked like the staring contest between Weasley and Granger wasn’t going to end anytime soon, ‘What if Potter knew his supplier cum accomplice?’

Three heads whipped around in his direction so quickly that Draco feared for a moment that their necks would crack. ‘What?’ Kingsley said.

‘Of course he did, how else would they have prepared a potion that, according to you, made him disappear from sight?’ Granger asked, a frown marring her features.

‘What I mean is that it is someone close to Potter who got him the books and helped him with the potion, aiding in his overall scheme,’ Draco said rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. He was met with an expectedly stunned silence. Why no one thought about it until now, Draco honestly couldn’t understand. It was so blatantly obvious! He had high hopes on Granger, what with her knowing things as an Unspeakable that Weasley didn’t as an Auror. Draco began wondering what happened to the ever vibrant golden trio that had always been all over the castle, finding things and places no one knew, solving mysteries and saving the world and Hogwarts time and time again.

‘I’m in no mood to insult your intelligence by asking why you haven’t thought it possible but here’s what I think.’ Draco said. ‘Old wizarding families command respect not just because of the size of their vaults, the number of their assets, the amount of riches or the people they associate with but also because of the one powerful weapon they possess that others don’t precisely because of the above mentioned reasons.’ He looked at the three of them who were listening to him with rapt attention.

‘Knowledge,’ he said when no one moved to answer him. ‘I’m sure you are aware that there are certain things which are available to only those who can afford them, certain kinds of magic not everyone can access. Most purebloods amassed followers and supporters this way- trading in things rare and valuable. Their collections of books and artefacts have been passed down generations with instructions to keep them safe for the future. The sacred twenty eight may not exist anymore and inspite of the changes in beliefs after the war, you don’t usually find people willing to part with their heirlooms, even if it’s the saviour who’s asking for their help. That leaves us with a very small pool of possible sources of Potter’s books. The interesting thing here is that, whoever it is not only knows Potter-’

‘But also his motives,’ Granger said, eyes widening in realisation. ‘That is why they helped him. That is why they parted with their books and even gave them to Harry to use as a cover and distract us should we go snooping about him after he disappeared. The two weeks advance order was just a sham to trick us. Harry’s accomplice was ready with the books. He/she sent those books to Flourish and Blotts on the day Harry would be last seen to deliberately misguide us. If Blotts didn’t lodge any complaint regarding suspicious owl deliveries, then it must mean it’s someone who’s their regular supplier. But they all check out fine! So who is it?’

Draco nodded and nodded once again as he suddenly latched onto one crucial point that he missed before. ‘I think I know who it is,’ he said rising from his seat and looking about his study. ‘Now, off you all go and find out what you have to. I have an appointment to schedule and a spell to break.’

It was past dinner time when Draco returned home, more tired than he had been in all the days since Astoria’s death. He expected to find unpleasant things but didn’t imagine them to be so disturbing. He collapsed on the couch and exhaled a long breath. He was never more unhappy to have been right. He didn’t ever think having his suspicions confirmed would leave him bone weary and aching and empty. He didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t even know what to think. He closed his eyes against the heaviness building behind them. He understood why Ginevra looked like a ghost. He understood why she couldn’t speak anything. He understood why Potter did what he did. Because that is what he had wanted to do too. But Scorp had stopped him. His son kept him going when nobody and nothing could. And to think that Potter couldn’t keep going even with everyone he had for family, because he couldn’t find his solace with any one of them!

Doris apparated into the room a few minutes later and stood next to him patiently, awaiting questions and instructions.

‘How’s Scorp?,’ Draco asked as soon as he registered her presence.

‘Master Scorpius play with Master Lupin all day. They both be sleeping now after dinner, Master Draco.’

When Draco didn’t reply for several minutes, Doris said again, ‘Would Master Draco be wanting Doris to serve dinner?’ Draco shook his head.

‘Would Master Draco be needing anything more?’ Draco shook his head again.

‘Doris be going to her quarters then?’ Draco nodded and she disappeared with a pop.

Draco pulled his legs up onto the couch and tucked them beneath himself. Now that he had the most troubling question answered, more began to crop up and he didn’t know if he was upset about the nature of the questions, the reason for them or the answer they ask for. He couldn’t leave them be nor could he bear to know the answers. The how was never of much intrigue, because this was Potter here and he would always find a way around the impossibility of anything. It was the why that had always made him burn with curiosity. And now that he knew it, he felt a crippling, gut wrenching sadness that threatened to break out of him and crush him until all that was left was a battered and bruised body full of marks looking at which no one could imagine that there were much worse marks left in intangible places, invisible, immaterial and ignored.

Draco didn’t know when the tears had started flooding out of his eyes. He didn’t know when his shirt got soaked. He didn’t know when the form kneeling before him had appeared. He didn’t know when his palms got enclosed in warm, calloused hands. He didn’t know when he was tugged down into the other person’s lap. He didn’t know when his face ended up in the other’s neck. He didn’t know when the other person wrapped him in his arms and maneuvered them both to lie on the lime green carpet covering his floor. All he knew was that when he recovered his senses, there was a warm puff of breath on his temple, soft lips kissing his forehead, a calm voice cooing in his ear and gentle hands rubbing his back slowly. After what seemed like an hour but was only a few minutes, Draco raised his head and realised that his hands were clutching the shirt of a man with emerald eyes and a thick mop of black unruly hair. He stared into the bright green pools which were gazing back into his stormy grey ones, filled to the brim but no tears escaping. Another minute passed by before there was a forehead leaning against his and a nose rubbing against his own, bringing a stubbled jaw closer to his, that warm breath now against his lips.

Draco remained quiet for a long time. That was not just a warmth beside him on the bed or a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. He knew this was real. Yet Draco didn’t want to break the stare. He didn’t want to do anything that could potentially disturb the serenity of the moment. He wanted to savour it and store the memory to watch it on repeat in a pensieve when everything went back to the way it once was. He therefore lay unmoving too. Slowly, though, he released his hold on the shirt and made to move to a different position but there was an answering tightness of arms he was embraced in and Draco instead shifted his arms to be around the neck.

‘Harry,’ he said at last, voice croaky and nasal, mouth dry and cottony. Harry tilted his head to the side slightly.

‘Don’t disappear again,’ Draco said, almost breaking down once again but reigning in at the last moment.

Harry’s eyes glistened in the golden light of the fire from the hearth. He placed a kiss on Draco’s forehead and looked into his eyes again. ‘Never,’ he said, his voice deep, laced with something Draco couldn’t place. And then Harry moved one of his hands to cup Draco’s jaw and his lips to Draco’s. There was a sensation of cracked corners filling up inside him that Draco couldn’t explain. He supposed it was alright since he finally got what he had been craving for as long as he could remember, and this was better than that handshake on the train all those years ago.


	8. Chapter 8

Draco sighed, adjusted his posture on the bed and resumed stroking Harry’s hair, fingers occasionally going deep into the thick black strands and massaging expertly with only his fingertips. For all his internal turmoil, Harry’s face was an expression of calm and peace, as he lay next to him. It didn’t even occur to Draco to take Harry to his guest rooms. After they comforted each other on the rug of his study, he had, as the healer instructed, made Harry take the second dose of the antidote along with a smelling salt and Harry became unconscious a few minutes later. There was a split second when Draco debated casting a Levicorpus but then decided against it and instead carried him to his own bedroom and tucked him in. He settled in next to Harry, hugging him from behind and closing his eyes. He woke up five hours later to administer the third and final dose and couldn’t go back to sleep again. So he lay awake, staring at Harry, caressing his hair and face. He knew it was protocol to immediately report and inform his kin when a missing person was found but Draco didn’t bother to give a fuck. He wanted Harry to wake up first and be ready to face the barrage of questions that would certainly follow everyone who floos into his house once he sends word of Harry’s status. He also needed to be ready to accomodate a large number of people in his house, something that hadn’t happened since the war. He and Astoria did have gatherings and parties occasionally but they were mostly restricted to a select few friends. Which meant he also needed to give Scorp some time to prepare for a long day. Doris wouldn’t mind so much. She would be delighted in fact. But all that would have to wait until Harry aroused from his slumber and gave his assent.

Draco rubbed his forehead for the umpteenth time since he woke up and finally called for Doris and asked for a headache potion. Doris came back a few minutes later with a small, amber coloured bottle that Draco downed in one go. He leaned back against the cushions and closed his eyes, relaxing as the potion worked its magic and feeling the ache receding. When he opened his eyes, he saw that Doris had disapparated and Harry was looking at him. The hand in Harry’s hair stilled and Draco stiffened. He made to move his hand away but Harry then rubbed his nose into Draco’s knee and Draco gripped Harry’s hair and continued his leisurely massage. It was strange, sure, to go from being enemies to occasional acquaintances to comforting each other but there was also an uncanny inevitability to it all that made it even more surreal. Draco was waiting for Harry to jerk awake to full consciousness, take in his surroundings, accuse Draco of taking advantage and then storm off. But, as was usual to him, Harry defied his expectations and calmly sat up next to Draco against the headboard as if nothing was wrong, as if this was something that always happened.

‘It did, quite often in my dreams,’ Harry whispered, his voice coming out croaky and raw, prompting Draco to wonder if he was a Legilimens. Somehow that filter between his brain and mouth seemed to be plugged in and Draco ended up not asking. He instead snapped his fingers again and Doris appeared with a tea tray, as if she had anticipated the call and was waiting for it. While Draco poured out the beverage in the silver cups, Harry rested his head on Draco’s shoulder. Five minutes and two empty cups later, Draco’s headache had vanished and Harry was holding onto his arm. Harry traced a finger down his arm and when their hands met, threaded their fingers together. They sat still for a long time unspeaking, breathing and just plain existing. Harry always surprised him. With his bravery, loyalty, kindness, honesty, understanding and humor, he was the poster boy for Gryffindor. Draco remembered thinking that Harry could very well pass for being their mascot- ever noble and chivalrous. But what always drew his attention was how the most defining thing about Harry was his characteristic unpredictability which, if he didn’t put himself and others in constant trouble, would have been quite adorable.

So what had happened to the boy who was not the boy who lived? The one with the same messy hair, green eyes, an adopted redheaded family, a successful career and his own family of five? What made Harry want to go invisible? What made him take extreme measures to cover his tracks? Why did he want to be undetectable?

With this line of thought, Draco began to grow angry and agitated. He abruptly turned to his companion and said, ‘What the fuck, Potter? What the hell did you do this time?’ The movement caused Harry’s head to be dislodged from his shoulder and Harry stared into silver eyes unblinkingly for several seconds.

‘I think you know what I did. You found me after all,’ he said quietly.

_True_ , Draco wanted to say, but that wouldn’t answer his real question. He decided to change tracks and said, ‘When do you want me to inform the Ministry and the others?’

Harry exhaled loudly. He looked to be preparing himself for the upcoming confrontation and for once in his life, Draco didn’t envy Harry.

‘I bet Hermoine, Ron, Ginny and Kingsley have something to say to me,’ he said flatly.

Draco squinted at Harry through his narrowed eyes. If he had any doubt as to Harry’s sanity, he guessed this moment cleared it all. Of course Harry was crazy. He just also was always crazily lucky. He was lucky to have Granger and Weasley all those years ago, Parker as his Auror partner, and now Draco to find and save him.

‘I think Albus, James, Teddy and your daughter need an answer from you more than any of us,’ Draco said.

Harry sat up straight at that, wide eyed with sudden panic written across every line of his face. It slowly morphed into one of hopeless anguish with watery eyes and wobbly lips. Draco knew that the dam would break if he so much as laid a finger on Harry and therefore scooted to the corner of the bed, saying in a gentle voice, ‘I’ll make the calls and arrangements.’ Harry gave a jerk of his head after a long moment which Draco took as a nod and left the room.

Five minutes later, there was a young teen running through the corridors of the manor, his hair in disarray and wildly changing colours, his eyes anxious, red and blurry. Draco followed closely guiding two more kids in. Teddy burst into Draco’s bedroom, panting, and stared at its lone occupant, before flinging himself at him. Harry rose from where he was sitting at the foot of the bed, arms outstretched, tears finally spilling onto his cheeks. Albus and James had barely entered the room before they joined the hug with identical cries of, ‘Dad!’ wrapping their arms around Harry’s middle. Harry clutched his kids tightly, kissing James’ forehead, one of his hands balling into fists in Teddy’s white nightshirt and the other rubbing Albus’ hair.

Draco was about to leave the room to give the family some privacy when in came Weasley and then Granger with a red haired girl on her hip. Weasley’s face was a mixture of relief and grief while his wife was openly crying. The red haired girl with them, Lily Luna, flailed her arms and tried to squirm out of Granger’s grasp in a desperate bid to run to her father. Draco made his way to the door and the last thing he saw before he fully shut it on them was Weasley and Granger moving in for the hug and Harry’s eyes opening and staring right at him, green boring into grey, shining with gratitude and..was it _affection?_

Draco hesitantly looked around the room, his gaze brushing past everyone, who were in turn gaping at him, before landing on the blanketed form leaning against his side, holding a white mug of steaming hot coffee. After Harry had thoroughly reunited with his kids, Teddy escorted them all back to Scorp’s room, who had woken up due to the chaos the house had been in. Draco watched in thinly veiled surprise as Albus launched himself at Scorpius once the latter had entered his bedroom, dragging along his stuffed snake and rubbing his sleepy eyes. The two boys had then retreated to a silent corner, holding hands and whispering furiously. Harry had raised an eyebrow at Draco and looked as if he was about to say something teasing. For the first time in a long time, Draco caught a glimpse of the old Harry and it had given him a small comfort to know that Harry was still with them, if hidden. It had given him hope that with a little patience, in time, Harry would definitely make a come back. Draco had then informed the assembled party of the others who were going to arrive and they all left to wait in the parlour. Harry’s clothes were torn in places and he had wrapped a lilac blanket that Doris fetched from one of the guest rooms around himself. He then stayed stubbornly close to Draco, often leaning against him, never once going without touching him. Draco was equal parts pleased and embarrassed and saw his tightly concealed feelings reflecting in the faces of the people before him. 

Harry snuggled close to him and burrowed his head deeper into his blanket so that only his eyes were visible. Draco cleared his throat and started to speak when he was interrupted by the whooshing sound of incoming floo. Out stepped a drunk and disoriented Ginny Weasley-Potter, whose forearm was firmly gripped in the hand of a blonde haired witch with tomato earrings, sparkling blue eyes and a toothy smile. ‘Hello, everyone,’ she said in her typical sing-song voice. Harry tensed next to him, sitting ramrod straight, his shoulders taut, jaw clenched and a frown on his face. Ginny flopped onto a blue bean bag and then proceeded to pull Luna Lovegood in as well. Both of Draco’s eyebrows flew up into his hair at that. One look told him that Harry knew and the rest of them didn’t and he sighed internally. Things could go from bad to worse and Draco had to tread carefully. 

Before he could say anything though, Weasley leaned forward, eyes fixed on Harry and said, ‘I’m upset you couldn’t come to me with whatever was bothering you. I’m sorry I haven’t noticed how much you needed a friend.’

Harry looked at him unblinking and after several tense moments, gave him a slight nod, relaxing his expression a little that only made Weasley cringe, his eyes filling.

‘Every move you made was ambiguous,’ Granger said, trying and failing to sound collected. She didn’t seem to be in control since the moment she met Harry again after nearly a month a quarter of an hour ago.

‘It appeared random, on the surface, but there was a hidden purpose all along. Like why you met Dean, why you visited Hogwarts, why you took Ginny to the concert. Why Harry? Why couldn’t you tell any of us? Why did you have to take such a drastic step?’ she wept, blowing her nose on the handkerchief Weasley transfigured.

Even as she wiped her tears and gulped, Draco knew that Harry could see she already knew the answer. Draco looked at Harry to gauge his reaction to Granger’s outburst and was not surprised to find him with wet eyes. He wondered if it would be best to give the Golden Trio the time they obviously needed before he went into the details with clinical precision since he was aware that some of the particulars could be ugly. He was about to suggest the same to others when Harry, as if reading his mind again, moved closer to him.

Granger’s eyes didn’t leave Harry’s, nor did Weasley’s. They were the three people in the room who were closest to each other and almost didn’t have any secrets. They were staring at Harry, sad and apologetic with shades of anger and betrayal underlying them, but underneath everything, there was profound love for the man who was their brother. Because it always came down to the three of them. It had always been the three of them. They had come a long way from sitting together when they were eleven to destroying a powerful dark wizard when they were seventeen to starting families in their twenties to sitting in Draco’s study at thirty four. Draco knew their feelings were justified- Harry’s included.

‘And why,’ Granger continued, ‘did you have to leave? Why did you _want_ to leave?’

Harry didn’t reply so she said, ‘You went to the Forbidden Forest to both get ingredients for your potion and to visit the place you last saw your parents. You took Ginny to the concert to both try and see, for one last time, if you could mend things and to see with your own eyes-’ she stopped. ‘You met Dean so that-’ she stopped again. ‘You met all the important people in your life before-’ she didn’t seem to be able to complete her sentences anymore.

‘Why did you say _goodbye_ , Harry?’ she finally asked.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Cliffhanger

Judging by the look on Weasley’s face, he had also come to similar (and correct) conclusions as Granger.

Two loud gasps followed her question, but Harry’s answer didn’t. He was still leaning against Draco sipping from his mug. The air around them felt heavy with anticipation but Harry continued enjoying his coffee unconcerned. Draco made the first move to break it.

‘Well there’s how he did it and why,’ he said, seemingly leaving the others with a choice to choose from, but in reality buying himself more time to formulate words and sentences in his mind to make sure that nothing beyond the script was said.

‘How,’ Weasley said at the end of ten minutes when no one said anything. ‘How he went missing.’

‘First things first,’ Draco began, ‘Harry didn’t go missing. He disappeared.’

Weasley, Kingsley and Ginny looked at him blankly. He could hear the wheels turning in Granger’s head, though. Luna sat twirling her hair around her finger.

‘We know, Malfoy,’ Ginny all but spat, ‘We know he disappeared.’

Harry sat up straight next to him and Draco felt, rather than saw, him glare at his wife for her tone of voice. Weasley narrowed his eyes at that while Ginny remained impassive.

‘Harry didn’t go missing,’ Draco explained. ‘He disappeared from sight. Wilfully,’ he added looking at Kingsley who merely nodded at him to continue.

‘Potter used a Spell Augmented Potion- or SAP- to make himself invisible to everyone except those who-’ he stopped and turned to Harry, unsure how to proceed. They had discussed this before, who was going to tell the others and what. Draco wasn’t entirely certain Harry was sound enough in his mind to speak about it. His mind was so vulnerable that Draco worried he’d spill his darkest secrets given half a nudge and then later regret it all or worse, go further into his shell than he already was. Draco was hell bent on preventing precisely such a scenario.

Harry gave him the minutest of nods and reached over to drag Draco’s hand into his. Draco’s mouth dropped open in shock at the gesture. It was not simply a show of affection. It was, in greater part, an open display of faith in him and Draco suddenly found himself unable to force words out of his clenched throat and dry mouth. Years of pining for Harry’s friendship and trust and affection and love, years of being scared, being jealous, being sad, years of hoping against hope, years of pretending to have gotten over Harry and leaving him in his past all melted away at the tenderness of Harry’s gaze and the gentleness with which he regarded Draco. All those little things seemed to have culminated into this small, grand moment. It felt like all of Draco’s wildest dreams were finally coming true but he hated that it had to be in these circumstances. Harry squeezed his fingers and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles, bringing him back into the present. Draco cleared his throat, ignored the gawping, astonished looks on everyone’s faces and continued.

‘The potion would make him visible to only those who missed him or thought of him without needing him. In other words, he wouldn’t be seen by anyone who needed his presence for any kind of help or favour. The Aurors won’t be able to see him because even they would be needing him to fulfil their job duties. The plan is therefore foolproof. The number of days a wizard can sustain the potion inside him is directly proportional to the strength of his core. Harry being who he is, was able to endure it for as long as he did. Finding ingredients for this type of potion is also not too difficult if we know where to look. And the potion isn’t illegal either. The DMLE and the Mysteries personnel often use it in their undercover work. What makes the potion Harry brewed significant is that it had one additional ingredient that, along with the spell, made it possible for it to respond to emotions and emotions alone.’

‘How do we know what you are saying is true? Even Unspeakables couldn’t find it out but you did?’ GInny said again. Draco had to resist a great urge to roll his eyes. If she wanted to get back with Harry like how her brother hoped, she had to rein in her tongue at the least.

‘Hear him out, Ginny,’ Weasley reprimanded.

‘The Minister and your brother and sister have already been briefed about the results of my assessment of Harry’s magical signature. I’ll explain again for a recap. The remains of Harry’s signature I gathered from your house, were first liquefied in my lab to separate his spell mixture. I ran the mixture through a series of Diagnostics and found that my results and the reports of Harry’s wand scan done by the Unspeakables and Aurors matched. Harry had cast Incendio, Cistem aperio, Colloportus and the Patronus charm the day he disappeared. I’ve also noticed traces of an odd spell about which I got the info I needed with the help of my Diagnostic measures. It’s an old unusual spell that was cast from his wand but not by him. The spell strength gave indications to someone who was considerably less magically powerful.’

‘His accomplice!’ Granger exclaimed and Draco nodded.

‘But why would Harry have to depend on someone else to do something that is as easy as breathing to him?’ Weasley asked puzzled.

‘From a certain angle, what Harry did can be construed as misuse of magical power,’ Kingsley explained, catching on. ‘We all know that the stronger a wizard is externally, the stronger he is internally. Magic grows and cores strengthen in the presence of other beings who have similar inherent magic. There’s a reason we survive better in our world than in the Muggle world. We sustain each other and our magic. To deliberately turn himself invisible to everyone else meant robbing his core of the chance to remain healthy and strong. Harry was turning against himself and hence his magic wouldn’t have allowed the spell to take effect, wouldn’t have allowed the potion to work inside his body.’ 

‘The SAP attacks his magical core head-on,’ Draco took up. ‘A person’s magical core has innate capabilities of repelling direct offensive magic. But this would interfere with Harry’s mission of going invisible. To overcome all these, Harry asked his accomplice to cast the spell on him using his wand. That way, the spell would be interpreted as foreign even though it was fired from his wand, since it was powered by a different caster. Harry’s core would recognise it as a case of someone using his wand against him and would simply force his body and mind to shut down in an attempt at survival. But that won’t neutralise the effects of the SAP.’

‘So, Harry could go invisible, his core would shut down and he’d still remain relatively harmless,’ Weasley said into the silence that filled the room as everyone tried to assimilate the information. ‘It’s bloody genius if we weren’t at the receiving end of it. Flawless really!’ That earned him a glare from Ginny and a smack on the arm from Granger but he paid them both no attention. He looked at Draco to go further.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Ginny mumbled. ‘I can’t believe you did this, Harry,’ she said looking at him sharply. Her tone wasn’t accusing, her eyes were.

Surprisingly though, Granger started explaining. ‘This justifies why his scent was missing. Since his core shut down, there was no internal source to fuel his power, scent and aura. That is why the morion stone gave no results!’

Draco thought she looked rather excited, but not in a good way. He could sense that Harry would be bombarded with questions the minute people got over their shocks. He unconsciously tugged Harry closer and held his hand tighter. Harry gave him a tiny smile and settled over his chest again.

‘Exactly,’ Draco said, ‘No active core means no signature or scent. We won’t be able to track him despite trying our best. None of our traps anywhere would be triggered because Harry won’t leave a signature to set off the alarms. Both the dormant state of his core and the effects on SAP coursing through his body ensured that he stayed invisible. This was also why he couldn’t be traced.’

‘Hold on,’ Ginny said, sitting upright and disentangling herself from Luna’s arms. ‘You mean to say that Harry was here all along!’

‘That, and that he could have gone anywhere within England undetected without draining his core.’ Kingsley said. ‘The core was temporarily in a closed off mode but would still respond to a call from Harry. It was how Harry was able to reveal himself to Teddy, James and Draco for a short while before the spell took over and made him go invisible.’

‘So there was no Fidelius, no Secret Keeper and you weren’t abducted. You ran away,’ Ginny said, a wild feral look in her eyes. ‘You ran away, Harry, not once looking back to think about us!’ She banged her fist on the table next to her startling Granger and making Luna take her hand.

‘You are in no position to condemn him, Ginny,’ Granger said, her voice scornful and her eyes filled with disapproval. ‘You cannot point a finger at him without being hypocritical. Harry didn’t leave, Ginny, you forced him to.’ Her voice broke at the end and she hid her face in her hands, sobs and shivers wracking through her body. Weasley pulled her into his arms and whispered gently, trying to calm her down.

Draco was surprised to see that Luna wasn’t comforting Ginny, who suddenly looked pale, tired, haggard and older than her thirty three years. He would probably have felt an ounce of sympathy for her if not for her husband who was now snoring gently in his arms. He took Harry’s mug from his hands and placed it on the coffee table before him and brushed back Harry’s hair from his forehead.

‘I did not,’ Ginny said in a small voice, but it was a weak protest anyway. Her eyes were now shining with tears. ‘Or maybe I did,’ she said again, trying a stronger tone. ‘Maybe I did, but I didn’t run away from my responsibilities, I didn’t leave my children weeping in corners, neither eating nor sleeping well. I didn’t leave them with no proper measures for the future!’

As Ginny began crying outright, Weasley lifted his head from his wife’s shoulder and stared at her, his face blank with disbelief. Draco saw the exact moment he realised that his sister and his best friend were not getting back together again. He saw Weasley’s face contort, twist into something ugly and finally crumble as he stared at his sister. Seconds later, he hid his face back in his wife’s shoulder and it was her turn to shush him. Draco was very glad that Harry was in blissful sleep when bonds forged through times of war and years of love, pain and struggle collapsed as if they were rusty, as if they had long been broken. He suspected, though, that Harry knew what was going on, or at least had an inkling.

‘As a matter of fact, he did,’ Kingsley spoke and everyone turned to look at him. ‘He wrote his will. Dean Thomas visited him that day to finalise the will. Harry then burnt away any and all the rough drafts so that when his room is searched following his disappearance, no one would find anything.’

‘But he would need a witness!’ Ginny said, shaking her head, as if she could make it false through the power of her will alone.

‘His accomplice,’ Draco and Weasley said at the same time.

‘But Dean’s statement and memories confirm that they were discussing a house in Surrey!’ Ginny was not giving up.

‘I’m afraid Harry might have used a wandless Confundus on Dean,’ Granger said slowly, ‘along with a memory modifying charm that keeps certain memories hidden in a person’s brain until they once again get exposed to triggering stimuli. It’s often used by Mind Healers in cases of mental trauma that have gone beyond medications and therapy.’ She turned to Draco, brown eyes wide and rapidly filling with horror. Draco returned her look, his face as vacant as hers.

‘Where is his will then? Why didn’t the Aurors..’ Weasley trailed off and slapped his forehead. ‘Of course. His Invisibility cloak.’

Kingsley nodded. ‘Incendio. Cistem aperio. Colloportus.’

‘He locked the trunk, not his bedroom door!’ Weasley exclaimed once again. 

A heaviness blanketed the room, permeating every pore and causing their skin to rise in goosebumps. Beside Draco, Harry shifted to rest his head in his lap but now he was no longer sleeping. Draco found his fingers reaching into Harry’s hair and massaging his scalp as they looked into each other’s eyes. They were both oblivious to the stares, sadness, doubts and queries of the others.

Granger said, a few minutes later, ‘Who do you think is Harry’s accomplice, Draco?’

Draco replied without breaking eye contact with Harry. ‘Someone who Harry didn’t meet before he disappeared, someone who knew about Harry and Ginevra, someone who can efficiently brew potions, someone, in fact, the only one who would help Harry because of their knowledge of what Harry was going through, someone who could engage the Blott’s floo for an hour and get away with it because they also are residents of Diagon, someone whom Blaise trusts with his floo address for the same reason, someone who could ask for old wizarding books, research and provide Harry with the SAP theory, someone who wouldn’t be considered suspicious when hunting for uncommon potion ingredients in Knockturn because they are always positively weird and due to the nature of their profession, someone from whom Harry learned the memory modifying charm, someone who supplies to Blotts occasionally, someone with access to Harry’s house to go and place the time delay vanishing charm on the books ordered _after_ he went missing..

‘Who do these point to, Hermoine?’ he asked, looking up to find three pairs of eyes on the bean bag.

Harry then got up from the sofa, went over to the bean bag and offered his hand. ‘Thank you for everything you’ve done for me till now,’ he said, voice steady and grateful, eyes shining with admiration.

Luna smiled, took his hand and stood up, bowing to the room and then embracing Harry.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter so far and it took me nearly a week to post not just because I was unwell but also because it was very hard to present it convincingly and hence had to subject it to many edits.
> 
> If you think I could have still done better, please tell me where and how I can correct it. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Luna Lovegood-Scamander. The eccentric Ravenclaw who made her way into Harry Potter’s equally extraordinary group of friends. The girl who stood by his side when he defeated Voldemort. Recipient of Order of Merlin, III Class. The only person to escape out of Draco’s house positive and hopeful during the war. The incredibly talented witch with special affinities for apparently non existent magical beings who went on to not only discover them with her husband Rolf, but also succeeded in providing a scientific explanation of their characteristics, habitats and behaviours. The highly accomplished woman who could give Hermoine Granger-Weasley, the brightest witch of their times a run for her money. The oldest Hogwarts student to join St. Mungos for medical training at the age of 28. The only one of their peers holding two degrees- one from Institute of Magizoology that certified her as a Creatures Expert and one from St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries that certified her as a Mind Healer of the Gold order. The woman who braved all odds and finally introduced animal therapy into treatment of mental illnesses. The skilled witch who was managing twins, her job as a Mind Healer at Mungo’s and her father’s magazine Quibbler in addition to helping out in her husband’s magical menagerie in Diagon. The Godmother of Harry’s kids along with Hermoine and the one Harry named his third child after. The _friend_ Harry Potter went to in his time of need. The one who never lost faith in herself despite people still calling her loony, despite violent objections and opposition against her theories, despite not being fully accepted even all these years later. Luna, in one word, was someone who everyone looked up to, aspired to be but could never be. Luna Lovegoods couldn’t be made, they had to be born as one.

But seeing her in blue joggers and a grey jumper with her hair partly tied and partly spilling out of her bun, with blonde curls falling to her waist and a few strands coiled around her finger, it was impossible to believe she was anything but a sweet stay-at-home mum who packed extra cookies for her children’s classmates, let alone a powerful, crafty, clever witch who helped Harry Potter carry out his sneakiest plan till date. Draco guessed it was part of the reason why people approached her in spite of all the remarks at her craziness- she came across as a friend anyone could go to with their problems without the fear of being judged or misunderstood. He supposed that was why Harry sought her out as his refuge.

‘Why?’ Ron croaked, his voice coloured with disbelief.

Luna and Harry were still standing in view of everyone in the room and Draco almost conjured two chairs for them when Harry made his way back to the sette Draco was sitting at a corner on before gesturing to him with his eyes that he had to move. Draco was surprised as there was place on the other side of him as well but scooted anyway. Harry eased into the seat Draco vacated squeezing himself between Draco’s body and the armrest of the sofa. He then swung his legs over the armrest and leaned back into Draco who grabbed him by his waist to steady him. Harry inhaled deeply and rested against him. Draco could see that Harry’s eyes were glazed over reflecting how light his heart felt at that moment and how sated his soul finally was.

‘I’d probably not be able to say when I decided I wanted to run away but when I set out to ensure I wouldn’t be found, I realised the plan had been forming in my subconscious for quite some time,’ Harry said, staring into the orange-red embers of the fire as Luna sat back down on the bean bag.

‘The reason, unlike the convoluted plan, was very simple,’ he continued. ‘I didn’t want to be here anymore. It suddenly didn’t look like the place I grew up in or attended Hogwarts and defeated Voldemort or had my first real family in. I felt like I lost connection with all the tangible and intangible things in this world, like I lost everyone I knew. It just wasn’t the same. I don’t exactly know what or who was responsible, I don’t blame anyone either. Maybe it was Ginny, maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just in my mind or maybe people really changed and made me feel things differently. I don’t know for sure, but those were my reasons, in brief.’

A stretch of ten minutes passed before anyone spoke. ‘But why, Harry? Why were you feeling different?’ Hermoine asked, injecting a pleading tone into her voice, genuinely trying her best to understand her almost brother.

Harry didn’t reply immediately. ‘Probably because I’m lonely, Luna certainly thinks so,’ he said at last, gesturing in her direction. Luna nodded, humming a tune that Draco thought probably attracted bees.

Towards the end of another dazed ten minutes, Ginevra said, ‘But you can’t be! You had Herm and Ron. You had your Auror team. There was Parker, Neville and all our old Hogwarts friends. You guys went clubbing and often had game nights. You even had Teddy! I was alone at home tending to everyone, making food, washing the dishes, doing laundry on top of my work at the Daily Prophet as the Sports Editor. It’s just like before. You had time for everyone except your family. Do you know that I’ve been consulting with Luna for two years now?’ Her voice rose in pitch towards the end. Draco was restraining himself from giving her a piece of his mind with barely present patience. His resolve alone wasn't the reason for his fortitude, though. It was also partly because he saw it for what it was- Denial, the first stage of acceptance of a sudden, unpleasant truth. Astoria had taught him that. As good an Auror as she had been, she was also equally adept in understanding human nature. He sometimes missed her a lot.

‘I was alone, not you,’ Ginny started sobbing into her hands.

Harry turned and watched her calmly before saying, ‘Is that why you’ve been seeing Carl Maxwell since three years, Ginny?’

Ron looked up at that, face pale and contorted in horror. ‘Carl Maxwell is a singer in your favourite band, isn’t he, ‘Moine?’ Hermoine silently hung her head down. Ginny’s sobs had stopped and she looked up, staring at Harry with a look of slowly dawning comprehension.

‘You knew,’ she said flatly. Draco rolled his eyes even as Harry held his wife’s gaze. _Of course he knew, what kind of a question was that?_

‘Answer my question, Ginny,’ Harry said, ‘Is that why you’re with him? Is that why you didn’t tell me about him? Is that why you didn’t come clean? Is that why you didn’t bother to mention it until I myself spelled it out for you?’

He didn’t give her time to answer though. ‘You are happy with him, aren’t you? Does he give you better gifts than me? Does he take you to more places than I did? It’s why you stayed with him, isn’t it, even though he slept around? He made news more times than you probably cared to look. Does he have at least one good quality or is this all some kind of twisted ploy to take revenge on me?’

Ginny was horrified. ‘You are quoting Luna!’ she whispered. ‘I thought I could trust you,’ she accused, turning to her friend.

‘Healer-patient confidentiality,’ Hermoine reminded her. ‘Honestly, Gin, you can’t blame Harry here. I’ve many times had the same doubt myself.’

‘Here?’ Harry scoffed.

‘It _is_ his fault,’ Ginny screamed, standing up. ‘Harry, tell everyone how many years it has been since we had a happy holiday or a proper family dinner. Tell them how many times you bailed on our plans at the last minute claiming that work issues came up. Tell them how long it’s been since we’ve shared a bed. Why aren't any of you asking him? DON’T BE QUIET, HARRY! IT’S YOUR FAULT, OWN UP TO IT!’

Luna immediately stood up and hugged Ginny’s trembling body. She started whispering things into her ear and gradually made her sit. Harry turned back to the fire. Draco sighed and found Kingsley rubbing his forehead. He idly wondered if Harry and Ginny were aware of the Minister’s presence.

‘I can’t, Ginny,’ Harry said in the same detached tone he’d been using all along. ‘I already made it clear that I don’t blame anyone. I don’t think it’s anyone’s fault either. If we are playing this blame game,’ he said, cutting off whatever objection Ginny was trying to come up with, ‘I’d ask you and tell you that you’ve started becoming distant to me after Albus’ birth. At that time I told myself you were busy with an infant and a toddler. But we never grew close after that. Lily was honestly a wonder. I could also remind you of all the occasions when you lied to me about staying in and I caught you at a pub or restaurant. But like I said, I don’t blame you. It happened. There’s no reversing time. However, Ginny, no matter your reasons you have no right to tell me my feelings were fake, that I couldn’t be, shouldn’t be feeling them. You don’t know what I went through.’

‘Then tell me now,’ she demanded. ‘The very private Harry Potter is finally opening up, is he? Took you long enough, I should say.’

‘Stop it, Ginny,’ Ron said agitatedly. ‘You bloody well know more about Harry, after me and ‘Moine and you are whining like a petulant child.’ Hermoine gasped at that.

‘I can hardly recognise you anymore,’ he all but spat and Ginny recoiled. ‘There’s no competition for Harry’s love and attention. You _know_ he gives his all. You _know_ it’s all or nothing with him. You can’t blame Harry and certainly not for your predicament.’

‘EVERYONE, SHUT UP FOR FIVE FUCKING MINUTES!’ Draco roared when they were only going in circles instead of reaching an understanding. A charged silence settled in the room following his outburst. He was shaking with anger that they were all totally missing the bigger picture here. Harry had multiple issues, the strongest motivators for his recent behaviour being the fear of abandonment and loneliness. Why couldn't they see it and if they could, why were they ignoring it? Draco was once again taken aback when Harry laid a reassuring hand in his, as if he anticipated Draco's strong reaction. _Was Weasley right in his assumptions? Did they share a brain?_

‘Loneliness is not a disease,’ Harry said softly. ‘It is an extreme state of mind a person is pushed into due to various reasons. It could stem from grief after the death of a friend or wife or child. It could originate from traumatic experiences or unhappy memories. It could be because of a person’s inferiority complex. A man’s social standing, both positive and negative, also often alienates him. It’s amazing how in this big world it’s unbelievably difficult to find a like minded person, to find some company or a companion. There are as many loners as there are possible reasons for loneliness. We can't just start pointing fingers at others.’

Draco had turned to look at Harry in the middle and found he couldn’t drag his eyes away from how forlorn Harry looked in that moment. 

‘That’s deep,’ he murmured instead.

Harry shrugged, ‘I had a lot of time to think.’

‘Mate..’ Ron began but stopped when Harry continued.

‘We can’t blame anyone because then the list would never end. I can’t find fault with Ron and Herm for the distance time brought to our relationship. They have a family of their own now. They have two kids to look after and jobs to work for. It’s unreasonable of me to expect them to be with me every time I need some emotional support. In the beginning, Ginny was there and she is the reason I recovered from the war. But as we grew apart there was suddenly nobody to bank on. I felt stranded in a sea of familiar faces. It was like I was back in the cupboard under the stairs. It was a relapse of all the bad memories of my childhood, only this time, everyone was around me, before my eyes, but it was like there was a wall between us- one I couldn't climb, one even they didn't because nobody cared. Herm and Ron could take one look at my face and tell what's wrong but they didn't since we barely met anymore. When I realised I no longer had my friends and wife, I understood I had truly lost everything. That’s why I wanted to run away. I didn’t want to live in a world that neither appreciated my presence nor was bothered by my absence. And Ginny? You had all the people you mentioned too in addition to your family and while you could and did share with them, I unfortunately wasn’t granted such liberties.’

‘Running away doesn’t solve anything, Harry,’ Hermoine said through her tears. ‘What did you accomplish by that anyway other than worry us all for a month? Ron and I couldn’t even eat properly. You should have talked to us, we could have solved it faster.’

‘Oh but it did help me, Herm,’ Harry huffed, ‘I got my revenge on you all, didn’t I? You didn’t miss me so I made you miss me.’ His voice was laced with sarcasm and contempt but Draco saw that underneath it was a mountain of sadness he was desperately trying to hide.

Hermoine’s jaw dropped at Harry’s words. She sat dumb struck for a while before saying, ‘That’s completely messed up, Harry,’ her tone conveying her concern for her friend.

‘Imagine how it was like in my head then. Now at least I have some perspective,’ Harry replied, turning to face her and bringing his legs back over to the sofa to tuck them beneath himself.

‘I still want to know why you couldn’t come to us, Harry. We are _your_ family too, not just Ginny’s.’ Ron said. There was only remorse in his demeanor, no mean denials or half hearted attempts at understanding it. It was probably why Harry answered him.

‘I did,’ he said quietly. If the room hadn’t been as silent as it was, no one would have probably heard him. Draco waited for Harry to elaborate but he didn’t. He just sat staring into nothing, worrying the hem of his shirt. Draco thought those two innocent words held depths of meaning no one in the room could ever possibly fathom. Harry, with those two words, had given up the facade he was putting on all along. He gave up all the reins he held and was baring himself for assault. Draco felt a pang in his heart and not knowing what to do, put an arm around his shoulders and patted him gently.

‘You did,’ Ron spoke at last, breaking the pregnant pause.

‘Yes.’ Harry sat up straight, feeling better by the lack of accusation. ‘Either Herm wasn’t available or she was busy with kids, either you were working or were having a pub night, either I saw you daily or I heard you were on leave to shop for Rose’s books and school supplies, either Ginny was at dinner with you guys or she came home too late to talk. I wasn’t bothered about the distance between us when it meant we went to separate houses, when it meant we had our meals separately, when it meant we spent our holidays differently. But when did we grow so far apart that I came to know through Kingsley that Herm was on leave since she wasn’t well? Why did I hear from Parker that you lost a game of poker to Dean on the Saturday you guys went out? Why didn’t I know that you were looking into houses until Neville asked me to inform you of a property near his own? Nobody spoke to me unless they needed my help with something. No one checked up on me after dark raids anymore. No one asked about my health when I wasn't well. We all became acquaintances who saw each other at work everyday, Ron. And I lost any connection I thought I had with you guys. It’s not for lack of trying that I couldn’t come to you. I think this all makes me sound desperate. Luna says there is nothing wrong with needing emotional assurances once in a while, especially seeing that I lacked much of it, growing up. But Luna also made me understand that I had played a role in this too. She pointed out how I was overworking myself, often to exhaustion, and not spending enough time relaxing or de-stressing with my loved ones. She told me how I was withdrawing from everyone and pushing them away when they did reach out. It’s why I don’t blame anyone. We all are at fault and at the same time none of us are at fault. It’s fine really.’

‘You sound indifferent, Harry, not like someone who has accepted what happened,’ Hermoine observed and Luna nodded.

Harry shrugged. ‘I just came back. I’ve not yet healed.’

Once again, the room was silent but for the ticking of the clock, the burning flames in the fireplace and the sounds of breathing. But Draco felt it was also filled with an understanding that had been lacking in everyone so far. Astoria hummed in Draco's head, sounding smug and satisfied apparently with the findings of her study. _He's in the fourth stage- depression. He's healing._ Draco mentally smacked her and wondered if he should stop sharing his brain with ex crushes and deceased wives. 

‘I’m sorry, Harry,’ Ginny said, her face streaked with dried tears, her eyes red rimmed and her voice hoarse from crying. It wasn't completely sincere, but it was a start nevertheless.

‘I’m sorry too, Gin,’ Harry replied in the gentlest tone so far. 'We were both equally responsible for the failure of our marriage and I have a feeling it probably started because of me. I'm really sorry.'

‘You are not getting back together, are you?’ Ron asked in his weakest voice. Draco knew it was a last ditch attempt before resignation finally set in. He was surprised when Harry and Ginny _both_ shook their heads.

‘I tried,’ Harry said, ‘to see if I could salvage my marriage. But I knew the day I took her to the concert that she was gone. That she couldn’t be happy with me anymore. It was the last straw.’

‘I hate you for being right, Malfoy,’ Ron said through his tears. Hermoine started rubbing circles on his back.

‘I’m sorry, Ronald.’

‘I’m curious, Draco, did you find Harry in Godric’s Hollow when you brought him to me or was I reading the surge of wrackspurts in the area wrong?’ Luna asked.

‘Yes, he was there,’ Draco said, glad they were moving onto less gloomier topics. Logic, he could deal with anyday. Emotions, not so much.

‘How could Draco find him when Harry’s SAP prevented it?’ Kingsley asked, his voice high and forcibly bright, clearly trying his best to change the subject.

‘I didn’t exactly _find_ him. When I realised Harry disappeared because he was lonely, Luna and I discussed and concluded that Godric’s Hollow was a likely place where Harry would be most of the time. Since there would be no magical signature to trigger the spells we set up there, he could avoid discovery and be close to his parents at the same time. I left him a note there requesting him to return. And he did,’ Draco added, ruffling Harry’s hair.

‘James and Teddy, it’s understandable. You also said you’ve seen him. How?’

‘I couldn’t keep myself away when I realised Draco was lonely too. I knew what it was like and I wanted to be there for him. The sneaky Slytherin used it against me to bring me back,’ Harry said, playfully nudging Draco in the ribs.

‘As if you weren't already sly with your plan, Potter,’ Draco shoved back. ‘I’m suddenly glad you didn’t decide to be on the other side of law.’

Harry guffawed loudly and small smiles broke out on everyone’s faces. The tension in the room dissipated like a pricked balloon. They were all beginning to move on from the ordeal into lighter territories. They were all starting the process of accepting, forgiving and forgetting.

‘Luna, does Harry need additional potions or medications to help him now?’ Hermoine asked, biting her lower lip, worry etched across her face.

‘Actually,’ Ron said sitting up, ‘maybe you should give him something so strong that we don’t see a return of this craziness of his.’ There was a mischievous glint in his eyes that said he was kidding. Draco gave him an appreciative smirk. _Weasley, sometimes, did show uncharacteristic thoughtfulness, indeed. Who would have guessed?_ He recognised it for what it was- an attempt at lightening the mood in the room. He silently thanked him for it though he was also dreading Harry's reaction to Ron's crude direct humour. He slanted his eyes sideways awaiting his response. Knowing him, Draco was betting on it being laughed away in true Harry fashion. Proving him right, Harry snickered. _Yes, they most certainly shared a brain and he most definitely had to stop sharing._ The prospect was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.

‘Or maybe not, Luna. I might need it to scare them again in the future,’ Harry joked. Everyone laughed out loud. Draco understood what he wasn’t saying. Harry was still not sure they wouldn’t leave him again. He was masking his vulnerability in his humour. Overcoming his insecurity was a long journey Harry had just started and Draco intended to travel with him till the end. It was going to be a different kind of adventure from the ones the Golden Trio took as children, from the ones he envied them for. There were a lot of things Harry had to unlearn and it was only going to be a steeply uphill task. But Draco was prepared for it.

‘Harry doesn’t need medicine, Hermoine,’ Luna said looking around the room. ‘He has all that he needs.’ Ron gave her a small warm smile. Draco understood too. These people were always going to be there for Harry. He just had to believe- in himself, in them, in their friendship and that they wouldn't abandon him.

‘Besides, we are all just as crazy as Harry is,’ she continued, twirling her hair on her finger again. ‘It’s just that his craziness shows.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loneliness often goes unrecognised. We usually find it hard to believe we ourselves, or those around us could be victims to it. We can surely imagine how difficult it must be to accept it and deal with it. I don't think we'd be completely honest if we were to say we never thought of running away to escape the grim reality of our situations in life. Of course it won't help. But sometimes, we don't find any other way out. What a person needs to conquer his insecurities and shortcomings is particular to him. But in my general opinion, I believe even the smallest support from our loved ones goes a long way in helping the person. We don't have to understand what he is going through or accept that he's suffering from it to help him out. A lot of unlearning and relearning happens that may or may not be enough to pass the tests he's put through. There are many questions and no sufficient answers. Help, many times, comes from unexpected people in unexpected ways. It is not always enough, but in the end, it most certainly is.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In view of the ongoing pandemic, I hope everyone is keeping to their houses and staying safe and healthy. And for those who are selflessly working night and day to help combat this havoc, here is my gratitude from the bottom of my heart. Thank you guys! You are our saviours, a blessing sent by God in this fight. You are the real heroes, saving the world in its time of need. I hope you are rewarded abundantly in the future!

‘I know you’ve said it many times until now but I still think we should do something,’ Hermione Granger said, leaning forward in her seat and crossing her arms on the glass table top.

Draco sighed. He knew what Luna was going to say. It had been going on for a week now. Hermione’s incessant worrying, Ron’s uncharacteristic silence and Ginny’s despondency were in no way helping Harry recover. His house had become a safe house of sorts for everyone deranged. Even when Astoria had been there, they had never encouraged their guests to extend their stay for long periods and now here he was hosting four Gryffindors and their children. Not that he was complaining about Harry or his kids. Nope. It’s the others who were making a nuisance of themselves. They all seemed to have collectively decided to watch Harry at all times of day, just short of waiting on him hand and foot. Draco nearly banged his head against his desk when Hermione rushed into his study two days ago and _begged_ him to _come make Harry talk to us, he won’t utter a word!_ He had honestly wanted to shout, ‘Leave him be, for Merlin’s sake!’ but stopped on seeing the desperation in her brown eyes that were always nearly full of late. He instead said, ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

Draco, in true Slytherin spirit, had convinced Harry to engage them with the promise that they would not disturb him for the two hours before dinner. He was at his wit’s end trying to be the peacekeeper of a household that was dreadfully noisy. It even led to him once yelling at Scorp for something trivial and when he went to apologise, he saw him huddled next to Albus, resting his head on his shoulder. He was even more surprised when Albus started stroking his hair and an uncertain looking James plonked in front of the two boys, pulled out his pack of playing cards and started his little show of tricks. Scorp had brightened up easily and even learnt some of them from James while Albus looked on fondly. Draco felt a tugging in his chest that brought on silent tears though he recovered in time to never let them fall.

 _Do all Malfoys have a thing for Potters?_ That voice in his head sounded quite distinctly like Astoria’s and he had a sudden mental image of her rolling her eyes as she tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder. Draco was amused but all he could think was who knows. He was perfectly happy and content with Scorp being surrounded by the younger Potters. Teddy was an undoubtedly good influence on him too. And Scorp absolutely adored Lily Luna whom he often took on a ride on his back. On the few occasions that Ron and Hermione’s kids had been by he saw that Scorp got along well with them. He was happy his son was making friends, even if they all happened to be freckled, red haired little Gryffindors-in-making. He was definitely not happy with the grown up ones, though. They were making his place so bleak and teary and miserable that he was positive Grimmauld could be considered comparatively cheerful. He couldn’t wait to have his house to himself. And if the impromptu meeting with Luna Lovegood was any indication, it wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

‘....not going to help him, Hermione,’ Luna was saying as he emerged from his thoughts.

‘But-’

‘We need to trust her, love,’ Ron interjected gently. It was a sharp contrast to his tone from eight days ago when he was nothing but accusing and harsh. Hermione sighed, dragging her hands across her face.

‘We all need to trust Harry more,’ Ginny said quietly. Three heads whipped in her direction fast enough to have cracked their necks. Three jaws dropped open at what she said. But Luna just smiled at her sagely. _Those sessions with Luna might have really helped her! Thank God for small miracles!_

Ginny shrugged when she found everyone staring at her. Luna turned and looked at them expectantly, curling her hair around her finger while she waited for them all to pick their mouths from the ground. Draco supposed he and the Granger-Weasleys were justified in their surprise. Ginny Wesley-Potter had been the most volatile and unstable one out of the lot during the one week they were all temporarily camping at his house. He suspected that violence would also have come out of her outbursts if Luna hadn’t been there. The Manor gardens were huge, easy to get lost in and apparently provided some perfect spots for Nargle hunting, according to Luna, who took to disappearing with Ginny whenever she threatened to explode. So it was totally understandable that Ginny being the voice of reason and the definition of rationale was an astonishing thing.

‘I think that is what he needs from us right now. I think that is what he expects. We may have good intentions and even Harry may be aware of that, but he is only going to look at our attempts as interference.’

‘Nonsense!’ Hermione dismissed, ‘He needs our help right now along with our assurances that he can share with us, that he can come to us, that he can confide in us. Wasn’t that why he ran away in the first place? The reason he left us was because he felt excluded, because he felt detached from us. We need to help him and for that we need to _understand_ him and his problem,’ she stressed.

Ginny huffed a small laugh and looked up from her hands straight into her sister-in-law’s eyes. ‘That’s the thing we _shouldn’t_ be doing actually,’ she said, leaning back on the couch. ‘Harry doesn’t want to be understood. He wants to be accepted. Completely. Unconditionally. He’s searching for acceptance and our endeavours to understand him will only drive him farther away. It’s not help if it ends up suffocating him Herm. We need to give him what he wants, not what we think he wants.’

‘It doesn’t make sense at all!’ Hermione grumbled, clenching her fists and cracking her knuckles.

‘It won’t,’ Luna said, her voice unusually heavy. ‘Not now, not ever. It doesn’t have to either. Because we will never be able to understand him. We can only guess what he’s going through but not its intensity. We cannot understand how he feels and the effects those feelings have on him because we don’t directly experience it ourselves. We only see _what_ he feels. We see his reaction, Herm, and all anyone can do is accept it. That is what most people want too. Acceptance, not understanding. Besides, Harry already started on his path of recovery. I don’t like to admit that his act of disappearance was the first step. Harry was so wholly consumed with the idea that the only way I could make him see the truth was by showing him how wrong he was. I believe those weeks of actual solitude gave him ample time to reminisce and reconsider. Did they, Harry?’

Draco felt Harry’s smile before he felt him move. Harry lifted his head from where it was blissfully tucked in the crook of his neck. He smiled gratefully at Luna which made Draco a bit uncomfortable. They had all gone on until then as if Harry wasn’t even present in the room. Of course Luna noticed it. ‘They did,’ he said and let his head fall back onto Draco’s shoulder. ‘As did Draco,’ he smiled, turning his eyes up to look at him. Draco felt heat rushing into his cheeks as he blushed crimson.

‘I did nothing,’ Draco said defensively, raising his hands in a placating gesture and shrugging. ‘I just found him and brought him back.’

‘And gave him, his children, his godson and family food and shelter in your house,’ Ron drawled. ‘Malfoy, you do realise that we haven’t at all interacted in 17 years except with a nod in the Ministry? We went from being enemies to strangers to _friends_ in a _month_. It escaped my notice earlier in the heat of the moment but it is bloody strange to be civil to each other. I can’t even imagine how Harry could go from taunting you to hanging off of you. Literally!’ he cried.

‘It doesn’t feel strange to me,’ Harry replied. ‘I’ve been told there is a certain comfort in anonymity that even years of familiarity can’t give.’ He smiled enigmatically at Luna, who returned it with just as much force. Draco took it to mean that Harry finally understood what she had been trying to tell him for, judging by her reaction, a long time. Harry snuggled closer again and rested against his chest. Draco released his hold on Harry’s waist, where his arm lay wrapped, and gently stroked Harry’s arm up and down. He turned and pressed a short kiss to Harry’s forehead. Ron turned away from the sight, Hermione was looking at her hands in her lap, Ginny was watching them like a hawk and Luna’s eyes took on that faraway look she usually adopted when she was lost in her world.

One other thing that became a common sight at the Manor had been Harry’s utter inability to leave his side. Not that Draco was complaining. Nope. Quite the contrary actually. But it was different. Draco also began feeling as if something was missing if Harry wasn’t next to him. That was when he realised he was doomed. He always knew Harry Potter would be his downfall- he never expected it to be through incessant cuddling, long, meaningful silences, tight, warm hugs and soft, feather light kisses.

‘Stressful times can bring out physical and mental cravings completely different from when normal,’ Hermione said, totally sounding as if she was quoting from a book. Draco wouldn’t be surprised if she was.

‘It’s not, actually,’ Luna said, waking up. ‘We seek comfort where we are sure to get it. Sometimes it can be in the strangest of places or in the least expected of persons. But wherever or whoever that maybe, we should understand it is where the tormented heart feels the safest.’

‘It’s still bloody bizarre,’ Ron mumbled, turning back to face Luna. ‘What about that thing we discussed?’ he asked, changing the topic. Luna dipped her head a bit and went back to her stargazing.

‘What is our next course of action, was what Ron meant,’ Hermione said, not bothering to hide her irritation.

‘What is it?’ Harry asked, throwing curious looks at everyone in the room, as if he was the only one who wasn’t in on the secret.

‘Yea, what?’ Draco repeated, his arm draping around Harry’s shoulders in a show of solidarity.

‘Harry,’ Luna began, not even acknowledging the other questions, ‘do you remember what I told you I’d want to do the day you took the potion?’

Harry stiffened a little but nodded anyway.

‘I’d still like to do it,’ Luna said. Harry nodded again.

‘Are you ready for it?’

Harry didn’t reply for a long time. ‘It’s okay if you aren’t,’ Luna said gently.

‘I’m not sure,’ he replied quietly, ‘Is any of it going to be genuine?’

‘I’m sorry, Harry, but you are going to have to be the judge of that.’

‘Judge of what?’ Ron asked as Ginny set a vial of swirling silvery mist on the table before them. She then flicked her hand and a pensieve zoomed into the room. Draco caught it before it could hit someone and placed it carefully on the table. Harry was now going to look at everyone’s memories during the time he was absent. Draco understood Harry’s reasons for doubting the genuinity of them. The dynamics have shifted. He both trusted them and didn’t trust them. He might find it hard to accept what he sees, whether it was good or bad. It was one of those “It’s going to be hard, but it’s worth it” moments that Draco absolutely hated. He was not one prone to philosophical contemplations but even he understood that healing was more painful than the cause of the injury itself. He sighed and tightened his arm around Harry, patting his shoulder absently.

‘When you’re ready, Harry,’ Ginny said looking him in the eye. When Harry didn’t reply once again, Ginny crouched in front of him, took his hands in hers and said, ‘We will accompany you if that’s what you want.’

Harry turned his head and looked at everyone in the room, their faces expectant, concerned and hopeful. He turned back to his ex-wife and shook his head. ‘I’ll do it, I need to do this by myself.’

Draco, having begun to understand the workings of Harry’s mind since he started solving the case, immediately said, ‘Don’t do this because you think that is what we all want you to do. Don’t feel pressured into doing this. It’s fine, we can totally go without.’ He glanced at Luna who swiftly agreed.

‘No,’ Harry said, shaking off Draco’s and Ginny’s hands and standing up. ‘I’ve thought about it and I want to do it. Alone.’ he added.

Luna poured the contents of the vial into the pensieve and Harry plunged into it after a deep breath.

‘Is he going to be alright?’ Hermione asked, scared for her best friend.

‘He’ll be fine,’ Ron said, pulling his wife into his arms but his tone lacked the reassurance he was trying to give her. ‘He has to be,’ he muttered under his breath. Draco wished the same.

A tense forty minutes later, Harry emerged, looking as blank as a wall. Nobody seemed to know what to make of his expression, or the lack of it. He sat still for a while as everyone looked on with tense expressions and pinched brows. He then lifted his head and locked eyes with Luna and gave a slight incline of his head. Then he got up from his chair and walked out of the room, Luna restraining everyone else from following him. ‘Harry probably just wants to go for a walk around the gardens here to process everything he’s seen and felt. We would help him better from here, don’t you think?’ she asked.

Draco nodded and then realised he had been staring at the door since Harry left. He turned back around and said, ‘What did you need my spell residue for?’

Luna revolved in her chair twice before breaking it and twirling her fingers around her three tiered chain bearing tiny circular pendants that resembled miniature time-turners.

‘That is for the rest of us,’ she answered, smiling serenely at all of them.

Less than five minutes later, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had their heads dunked in the pensieve now swirling with an amalgam of the spell residue and Harry’s own memories. Draco raised his brows at Luna above their heads.

‘You don’t need sensitisation, Draco,’ she replied calmly.

Draco felt a moment of twinge when the reason for it dawned on him. _Of course!_ He didn’t need it because he was already sensitised. Astoria’s death propelled him into a pit of loneliness so deep that Pansy had shown up in his Floo unannounced one month after he stopped responding to owls, patronuses and fire calls and shoved his ass into a Muggle therapist’s clinic. She had only spoken two words as she pointed him to the white coated, brown haired woman sitting across the desk, ‘War. Wife dead.’ The Muggle, whose badge identified her as Dr. Justine Avery, had given Pansy a single nod and pulled up her notepad as Pansy left the room. Draco had emerged four hours later looking beaten and exhausted but kept going back to her for all his appointments. That was how he became sensitised. He exhaled deeply and rested his head in his hands. Two minutes later two wiry but strong arms surrounded his neck as Harry came up behind him and rested his head atop Draco’s.

‘I want to see Lily,’ he whispered looking at his three friends bent over the pensieve. He then withdrew and went back to the corridor to wait for Draco. He knew what they were viewing. Luna had been quite clear when she extracted his memories and Draco had been beside him, holding his hand.

Draco immediately got up and nodded a goodbye at Luna. He was about to follow Harry when Ron pulled out, trembling, red faced and red eyed, remnants of tear tracks down his face saying all what Ron had to for him. Draco was never more surprised when Ron briskly walked up to him and engulfed him in a tight embrace, still shaking vehemently, dry heaves working their way up his throat as he desperately clung to his support. Draco regained his senses and awkwardly patted Ron’s back gently.

‘I couldn’t see it a second longer,’ Ron cried into his shoulder.

‘He’s better now, Ron,’ Draco said, his voice suddenly soft and soothing.

Ron pulled back and held him at an arm’s length. ‘Thank you for taking care of my Harry...of my brother when I couldn’t,’ he nodded.

Draco gave a small smile and patted his shoulder once more. Luna appeared at Ron’s side and guided him into a chair as Draco took leave of them both. When he went into the corridor, he found Harry leaning against the wall beside Luna’s room, his eyes shiny and wet.

Draco cupped his face with one hand, wiping away a stray tear that rolled down and said, ‘You didn’t lose any of them, Harry. They all are and will always be there by your side.’ He brushed his thumb across Harry’s cheek looking tenderly into Harry’s eyes, grey asking green to believe him, grey telling green that it was going to be alright and pleading with green to accept his offer of trust at least this time around. Draco would be fine with it as long as it happened, even if it was 28 years later.

Harry pulled Draco close to him and snaked his hands around his waist, holding Draco close to himself, basking in the warmth radiating off him and inhaling his scent, all without breaking their gaze. ‘And what about you?’ he asked, his voice low, his lips barely moving.

Draco wrapped his own arms around Harry’s neck, rested their brows together and said, ‘Until the very end.’

Harry hugged Draco tight to his chest on hearing those words. They were coming from a different person this time, but Harry was sure the meaning was the same as it had been the first time he heard them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's feelings and thoughts are not explicitly described because I don't want him to be the focus of the fic. The story was originally planned to be an outsider view at some of the deepest struggles our loved ones face and I intend to keep it that way. When I'm free and sufficiently motivated, I might plan a one shot sequel but I can't guarantee it's going to happen. There's just one more chapter left and so, see you soon!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the end! I'd like to thank everyone who stayed with me on my first journey. Thank you all for reading it and I hope you enjoyed the story.
> 
> ShippingTrash4Life deserves a special shout out and credit for his/her/their constant encouragement throughout. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your unwavering support. Thanks a lot, mate!

For Draco, the 31st of July couldn’t come quickly. It had been a fortnight since Harry returned and a week since he viewed the memories. The previous week was filled with closing the case, wrapping up the paperwork, Kinglsey signing and affixing his seal and the entire file being dispatched to Draco’s personal archives. They couldn’t risk having the documents out in the open on the off chance that someone stumbled onto them. Although, post war, one of the infinite reforms, demanded by the public and journalists alike, had been that all DMLE cases be made available for them so that incidents like Sirius Black, Order of Merlin III Class, didn’t repeat, Kingsley had prevailed in drilling sense into people and Wizengamot alike when he pointed out the dangers involved in it. He had, however, acknowledged that they were right and hence allowed for a notified and supervised entrance to those qualified in addition to stressing that some cases might arise which cannot be disclosed to anyone except those who investigated them and therefore had to be kept away in the Head of the Department’s personal lockers, only released when need arose and only to those approved by the HoD and the Minister for Magic. Draco had found difficulties in his initial days since quite a few of them had required some of the old files as there always seemed to be a thread that connected to something that happened in the past in another seemingly unconnected case. There were times when he went positively mad waiting for the necessary approvals but he was more than happy now.

While people from DMLE, DoM, and the Department of Magical Analysis were magically bound to record every case and only the facts and truths at that, Kingsley had made sure that privacy and secrecy could comfortably exist wherever needed. Draco wasn’t just glad, he was incredibly happy about how everything turned out in the end. Dennis Creevy printed out an exclusive photo of Harry, Draco, Ron, Hermione and the kids having a quiet afternoon at a nearby muggle park as, contrary to Ron’s promise, he wasn’t given the complete story but just what they had all agreed upon- Harry had been undercover, the mission was very taxing and everything related was classified. Kingsley had personally given the story to the press, submitted to the Wizengamot a written copy of Harry’s work in the one month he hadn’t been there and then enclosed it in his own archives. Kinglsey had cleverly chosen a document Harry turned in two months ago when he was working overtime, that didn’t bear too many dates and since the date of the seal did not record on the parchment, everything was neatly and conveniently tied up. The articles published by Quibbler and the Prophet could still cause trouble if the snooping young brains caught onto the loopholes so there had been another one just yesterday that announced his divorce with Ginny Weasley. They had spent the entire day answering floo calls and owls and Harry had been so exhausted that he collapsed on the couch right after dinner. Not wanting to leave him alone and not having enough strength at 10 o’ clock in the night, Draco had laid down on the carpet next to the couch after he herded the kids into their rooms. He now rolled awake, blinked his eyes open, stretched his arms above his head, exhaled heavily and then cursed.

Harry laughed from where he was peering down the side of the couch. ‘You have a hilarious morning face, Draco,’ he said.

‘It’s bad manners to stare at those who are sleeping, Harry,’ he retorted, wondering if the teasing tone to Harry’s voice was a figment of his imagination or if it was real.

‘Does it say so in the Malfoy’s Code of Conduct?’ Harry asked innocently, batting his eye lids at Draco. _Definitely real. Only Potter could come up with that level of sass._ ‘Haha,’ he said and stood up.

‘What were you cursing about anyway?’ Harry asked, folding the green blanket Draco had put on him the night before.

‘That today’s only 26th. 31st is still five days away,’ Draco complained, picking up his own black one.

Harry didn’t reply immediately. He walked up to Draco, who had his back turned to him, and hugged him from behind, his hands locking in front of Draco’s waist. He rested his head against Draco’s shoulder bone, inhaled deeply and sighed, ‘I don’t think I thanked you for your help.’

Draco, still not used to Harry’s affection, had stiffened up a bit but then relaxed into his hold. He rocked back slightly on his heels and said, ‘You’ve thanked me in other ways, Harry.’

Harry’s head came up to rest on his shoulder. ‘Like,’ he breathed into his neck and Draco felt the hairs on his hands rising to attention.

Draco had no intention of revealing his years-long crush when he didn’t know what Harry’s reaction to all this intimacy would be after the crisis was over. Luna had already warned him that it would be difficult to predict Harry’s behaviour and Draco should be prepared for anything. He had panicked openly at that and Luna had to reassure him that Harry would not just forget him and go away but might just not be as he was now. It was a cruel and painful thought. But when Luna pointed out that Harry chose to go to someone he felt the safest with, last week in her clinic, and when Harry asked him if he would be there for him, Draco felt hope blossoming in his chest. Still, he was slightly wary. So he reached behind and then abruptly turned to catch Harry in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and started playing with the stray hairs there.

‘Chatty much today, are we, Potter?’ he asked, grinning.

Harry just grinned back and leaned forward to rest his forehead on Draco’s. He cupped Draco’s face in both of his hands and rubbed their noses together, gently swaying them both to the early morning breeze that was drafting in through the open French windows. He pressed a light kiss to Draco’s nose ten minutes later and stepped back.

‘Let’s get started. I want to take us all out for the day. Have you ever been to a zoo?’ he asked walking out of the room.

Draco followed him. ‘But what about the leftover mail?’

‘Can Doris take them back to Kreacher? He’ll incendio them before our breakfast is finished. By the way, will Doris be interested to come with us? I’d ask Kreacher too but he’s already a lost cause. What do you want for breakfast? You never tasted my food, did you?’

By then, Harry had reached the kitchen and went in to start a kettle for their tea. Draco stopped at the entrance, leaning against it, legs crossed and hands folded across his chest as he shook his head at the black haired menace scampering about his kitchen. ‘Breathe, Harry,’ he said, a small fond smile creeping up onto his face.

‘And wake the kids too,’ Harry sing-songed.

Doris was _so_ going to love it!

The day went well according to Harry. The day didn’t at all go well according to Draco. Press were hounding at their feet and the group often had to either disillusion themselves or cast Notice-me-nots. The hearing for the divorce was scheduled for the next day and Draco felt it was scandalous to be photographed with Harry’s family before the divorce was settled. For all that the public knew he was only an Analyst assigned to the case. The family outing and Harry’s constant touches and smiles and dopey eyes made him uncomfortable after a point. Draco wasn’t sure how the future would turn out and he didn’t want rumours cropping up left, right, centre before he had anything concrete to base his feelings on. It was, therefore, a grumpy Draco who returned to the Manor while Harry, James, Scorp, Teddy, Albus and Lily went into the house, jumping and laughing. He only hoped the trial would go over smoothly the next day.

It did. Draco was only partly surprised. The assets were divided equally and Harry and Ginny were granted shared custody as they requested. Ginny didn’t demand any compensation and instead walked out with her head held high and an almost peaceful look in her eyes that Harry sported two weeks ago when he was explaining his motives. The Weasleys were all supportive, not that Draco expected any less of them. Molly and Arthur had already been by the Manor a couple of times. Ginny had been explaining matters to them when Harry escaped. They had enough time to come to terms with it. George came over three nights a week. Charlie and Bill had floo-called to both talk to Harry and thank Draco. Percy had dropped by his office and placed a box of home baked cookies on the desk. When Draco had looked at him questioningly, Percy had just shrugged and said, ‘Audrey’s specialty. Little Molly and Lucy love them, as I’m sure Scorpius would too.’ 

And Scorp did. He had shared them with the others as well, saving an extra one for Albus. ‘You should take it, I eat them all the time,’ Albus had said, ‘Aunt Audrey’s really kind, she always sends us a pack whenever she makes them.’

When Scorp shook his head in refusal, Al had simply brought it up to his mouth and pushed it in. Scorp broke the cookie into two and fed the other piece to Al, both of them covered in bright smiles and powdery remnants around their mouths by the end of it. James and Lily had shot daggers at Scorp for his very obvious favourtisim. Teddy had laughed and played peace maker before things escalated further by engaging them in a game of gobstones. Draco had watched it all from his place on the sofa and smiled fondly at them. Harry had leaned into him at that exact moment and looked up at him, his eyes glinting with something he couldn’t exactly place but that which puffed up the balloon of hope in his chest even more. That was when he decided to talk to Harry about their future. He was going to be a Gryffindor about it and pose the question right to Harry’s face. And he was going to accept his answer. Before all that however, he would make sure Harry’s thirty-fifth birthday was a great one.

The day Draco had been ardently waiting for dawned on him clear and bright. He woke up and rushed into Harry’s room. Though Harry wanted to sleep in his room after that first night when Draco tucked him in his bed after he came back, Draco refused citing that it would be good if Harry had a room he could go to in case things in the house became too much for him. He had convinced him saying, ‘That way, we’d all know not to disturb you or call for you until you yourself come out.’ Harry didn’t look one bit impressed but agreed when Draco offered the chamber next to his and there was a door connecting the two rooms. It was always left open and Harry always went into his room through Draco’s. He was presently lying underneath white fluffy bed covers with black hair spread out across the pillow and standing in stark contrast to the whiteness. Draco sat next to his head, brushed a few locks off his forehead and still stroking it said, ‘Happy birthday, Harry.’

There was no movement and the picture of Harry sleeping peacefully compelled Draco to drop a kiss on his brow. He then traced Harry’s face, lightly mapping his eyes, nose, cheekbones and jaw with his index finger in gentle moves. Harry opened his eyes as soon as Draco rubbed his thumb across his bottom lip and sat up, smirking mischievously at Draco. ‘I really wanted to see how you’d resist me on my birthday.’

Draco looked abashed and colour bloomed bright red in his cheeks, stomach dropping out and tumbling downwards, heart beating fast enough to be wild, face heating up and burning like iron, breaths coming out quick and shallow, throat locked with something thick and heavy.

In the time it took Draco to form an answer, Harry had crawled right into his space and sat in his lap, one leg going around Draco and one dangling to the floor. He cupped Draco’s face and said, ‘Thank you.’ He kissed Draco’s nose and then bent low to his lips and planted a soft one there. Draco didn’t need another invitation. He wrapped his arms around Harry and deepened the kiss, exploring Harry’s mouth leisurely with his tongue, sucking his lower lip into his own mouth, playfully nudging Harry’s tongue aside and taking complete dominance of the kiss. They broke apart ten minutes later with Harry holding onto Draco’s upper lip for a few extra seconds as he licked across Draco’s palate and then finally letting go.

‘I like my birthday gift,’ he said, jumping out of his lap and stretching his back.

‘There was nothing not to like about it,’ Draco tossed out, standing up and looking haughty and pleased.

Harry rolled his eyes and disappeared into his en suite. Draco stood staring at Harry’s retreating back for a while. He was starting to think Harry would happily agree to staying with him, _living_ with him. But he also knew that Harry had just started recovering and it was going to take time. By Luna’s analysis, Harry’s improvement in the last two weeks had been drastic. She had opined that Draco responding positively to Harry’s affectionate advances were working wonders to Harry’s fear of not being loved. He very surely had deep feelings for his childhood rival but he wondered if that would be enough to get them through this. He believed Harry trusted him and it was only yesterday that Harry rushed home from the movies. They had been waiting for Harry to finish up in the restroom and when fifteen minutes had passed and Harry didn’t come out, Draco and Teddy went in to find that Harry wasn’t there. Draco had immediately apparated back home leaving the kids with Ron and Hermione and found Harry hiding in a dark corner of his room, head bent over his arms wrapped around his knees. He had to gently coax him out and it took a while before Harry told him why.

‘I came out and saw that you guys weren’t there. I thought you all went home without me,’ he said in a small voice, undeniably inaudible if Draco hadn’t been holding Harry in his lap. Draco had gently told him they had been standing to a side which made Harry burrow into his chest deeper and sniffle more.

The incident proved to him that sometimes even the trust Harry had in Draco would waver, not because of suspicion but because of his experiences, insecurities and fears. It was sort of an eye opener and made Draco realise the effort it was going to need. Dismissing all the memories, he walked out of the room to rouse the children. Harry had already told him what he wanted to do- cook for them all and watch two of his favourite films.

In the evening, Molly flooed in with her cake and Doris and Kreacher brought out their own three tiered one. Then came Andromeda, Kingsley, Luna and the other Weasleys. Draco invited Blaise who showed up at 6 o’clock sharp. Even with only the closest of Harry’s circle, the gathering was big and noisy. Draco watched Scorp and all four Potter kids run around the garden with an expression of euphoric bliss that still failed to adequately convey his inner satisfaction at the family he saw forming before his eyes. Dennis captured the moments and the one that had Draco and Harry smiling at each other, holding wine glasses in one hand with the other around their waists, was going to be on the morning Quibbler the next day. It had been just after Draco toasted to _New beginnings!_ Harry was both surprised and impressed. Draco saw out of the corner of his eye that Ginny sent a discreet thumbs up their way. She was recovering too. He felt immeasurably good about how things turned out. Around 8.30pm, they had dinner and by ten o’clock people started leaving. Soon it was only Draco and Harry huddling together on the grass.

‘The answer to your question is yes,’ Harry said, burrowing his face into Draco’s neck.

‘How do you know what I wanted to ask?’ Draco said, stroking Harry's hair. ‘Ron thinks we share a brain.’

Harry laughed, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of Draco's neck. ‘I spent a lot of my life observing you, Draco. And Astoria was always talking about you. I think she wanted me to be friendly with you.’

‘Knowing her, I’d say she was trying to set us up.’

Harry pulled back and raised his eyebrows.

‘Yeah, well,’ Draco said blushing, rubbing his free hand behind his neck, ‘She knew me. And she wanted me to be happy.’

‘I wonder if Ginny would have done that for me,' Harry said slowly.

‘She still loves you, you know. Just not in the same way,’ Draco said, after a beat.

‘When I initially found out about Maxwell, I had a moment when I saw the family I dedicated my entire life building, collapse to dust before my eyes,’ his tone once again became small and scared.

Draco wrapped his arms tighter and pulled Harry closer. ‘You should forgive her,’ he said after another beat.

‘I will,’ Harry replied. ‘It would be hypocritical otherwise, seeing that I’ve committed moral infidelity by falling for you two years ago.’

‘Gryffindors!’ Draco huffed to make up for the heat emanating from his cheeks that Harry undoubtedly felt.

There was silence for a while before Harry turned to face the starry night sky and asked, ‘And are you happy?’ Draco kissed Harry’s temple and linked their fingers together in response.

A moonflower bloomed in the distance and the clouds dispersed revealing the silvery-white full moon that shone bright and pristine.


End file.
